


Two-Hundred Arrows

by Shilyn18



Series: Rosa and Tal Stories [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:47:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25213402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shilyn18/pseuds/Shilyn18
Summary: AU Sequel to Solas the Circle Mage/Companion story to Rosa Stands Tall. When Tal wakes up with a magic mark & a cranky Seeker marching him to certain death, he's not happy. He volunteered to spy at the Conclave to escape responsibility as First to his clan and, just his luck, wound up in even more trouble. Things get even worse when he encounters "Revas" again, the man who bedded his sister Rosa & then abandoned her a year ago. But there's one hilarious upshot to all this: Tal gets to watch when Rosa confronts the "Fade expert" about a certain surprise (named Eliana, Tal's niece) he unknowingly abandoned with her.A look at what might have been had Tal, rather than Rosa, become Inquisitor.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Series: Rosa and Tal Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1368352
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	1. The Sky's Shitting Demons

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on FFnet. 
> 
> All right, important note! If you have not read my other story SOLAS THE CIRCLE MAGE, go forth and read that one first! You need to read that one to understand the full context and background of this one because I broke canon! You have nothing to lose in reading that one, either, since it's finished. If you have read it or are also reading the alternate version of this, "Rosa Stands Tall" where Rosa is Inky, you're good to go! This one is not finished and as I just had a baby I can't promise regular updates but...anyway...enjoy!

A swirling vortex of green flickered in the sky, lightning licking its edges. Gloomy clouds half-blocked the sun, spitting snow, but Tal couldn't help but feel his stomach drop at the thought that the hole was trying to swallow the world. Just like the Seeker said when she first cut his bonds and started leading him up the mountain in this suicide mission.

 _"We call it the breach,"_ the Seeker's voice repeated in his memory.

 _More like a giant asshole shitting out demons,_ Tal thought. The cold air bit at his cheeks as he puffed, trying to keep up with the Seeker as they walked uphill through the snow. Tal tried breathing into his hands, still chafed from the manacles and the rope bindings.

The high-pitched squeal of a burning, green Fade stone tore through the air then. Tal gasped, his body rigid as he froze, reaching for mana to fight. The Seeker's hand flew to her blade and she jerked her head left, staring into the little gorge they walked alongside as the stone smashed itself on the ice and rocks. Grotesque shapes crawled out of the green-black muck it left behind.

Demons.

"Keep moving," the Seeker shouted over her shoulder. Her pace picked up to a jog.

 _I should just run,_ Tal thought. Really, that was the _smart_ thing to do. Whatever in the void happened here, it wouldn't be good for Tal. The place had already exploded once according to the Seeker and the redhead who'd tag-teamed him during a brief interrogation when he first woke. Who was to say it wouldn't blow up again? What if the strange, painful magic in his palm was the spark this shithole breach needed to tear wider?

_You cannot run. That is the coward's answer. You are not a coward._

"Says who?" Tal muttered, then stopped dead in his tracks and scowled. Had he lost his mind? Why was he talking to himself?

The Seeker had stopped a few paces ahead, noticing he'd stopped. "Get moving, mage."

Tal blinked and stared at the human woman, taken aback. She was pretty, curvaceous even through her armor, with black hair and keen brown eyes. A nasty scar ran on her jawbone and Tal wondered how she got it. He blurted, "How'd you get that gnarly scar?"

The Seeker snarled and pivoted round to stomp toward him. Tal didn't miss the threat of violence in her angry march. The bizarre desire to stand his ground and challenge her to a fight flitted through his mind. Tal sat on it as entirely irrational and an utterly _stupid_ idea. She looked like she could eat him for breakfast—and not in the fun way.

"All right! Okay! I'm moving!" He lifted his palms in a gesture of submission and started jogging. "Sorry about the question, just curious."

The Seeker followed him now as they walked forward on the path. A gate stood open, flanked by guards wearing the new heraldry of the Divine's secret group-thing. Tal recalled seeing them walking about the temple of Sacred Ashes in the days before the explosion, when dignitaries from both Templars and rebel mages were still filtering in. The other mercenaries in the Valo-Kas hadn't cared about this new group and Tal had followed suit in that lack of interest. Still, their heraldry seemed to appear more and more often. The guards in Tal's cell had been wearing the same armor with that symbol of the eye and the sword.

Thinking of the Valo-Kas made Tal's eyes get hot and his heart hurt. He'd been with them only a few months but he made friends with most of the Tal-Vashoth quickly, sometimes preferring their company to the other Dalish who'd joined with him. How many of them had been on duty when the Conclave blew? Herah? Kaaras? Sataa? Shokrakar? What about the dwarves, Edric and Malika?

He swallowed hard as his thoughts kept going: _Mahanon, Lerand, and Arvin._ The names of his fellow Dalish were like cold ice chunks in his belly as the certainty solidified inside him that they must all be dead. Shokrakar had had them all on duty at about the same time, preferring to use the elves with their greater experience in combating magic during the mornings when the Divine always saw the rebel mage leaders. Tal's last memory was of being on duty with his clansman Arvin inside the courtyard, trying to avoid the older man's endless lectures on Tal's duties to the clan. In that moment he'd wished more than anything to get away, escape Arvin's watchful, judgmental eye…

And now the old man was probably dead. Those ice chunks in Tal's belly seemed to grow heavier. He didn't let himself consider Mahanon. No, that could wait.

The piercing screech of another burning Fade stone hit Tal's ears. He flinched, realizing his mind had wandered, and tossed a barrier over himself and everyone nearby on instinct just before the rock struck the stone bridge. Tal fell in a jumble of tumbling gray stones, dust, and screaming humans. Cold ice met him and he landed in a clumsy sprawl, cursing through gritted teeth.

Ahead a green-black wad of Fade ether bubbled until two shades pulled themselves out of the muck. The Seeker, having landed on her feet, catlike, drew her sword with a ring of metal. "Stay behind me," she ordered and then charged forward.

The sight of it made something quiver inside Tal. He blinked, baffled, as he realized that was… _excitement?_ He admired the way the Seeker advanced on her quarry, holding her shield raised to protect herself and then strike when opportunity presented itself. She had excellent form and timing. It was a wonder anything had ever managed to slice her to give her that scar.

A gurgling noise drew his attention and Tal saw the second shade break off and come slithering over the ice and snow and debris, heading toward him. "Shit sticks," he cursed and scrambled his way up to his feet. Mana came to him easily, bubbling and energetic. Tal lobbed a fireball at the demon and then switched to winter's grasp, using one arm to make the spinning motion without a staff.

As the spell slowed the demon Tal's eye caught the glimmer of metal in the rubble a few paces away. His heart leapt as he recognized a staff. Lunging over to it, Tal snatched it up and spun it as he summoned storm magic. Lightning arced between the demon closest to him and the one the Seeker fought. Tal whooped with a thrill as both demons dissolved, dying at his blow. "Fuck yeah!"

The Seeker wheeled around to face him, sword and shield still drawn. "Drop your weapon!"

Tal stared at her, frowning. _Bad idea,_ he thought. He didn't want to be disarmed but… _fenedhis,_ wouldn't it be thrilling to show how _brave_ he could be by fighting weaponless? His fingers twitched, as if some invisible force kept him from letting go but also kept him from refusing outright.

"Uh…"

The Seeker glared at him, waiting.

Finally Tal blurted, "Do I have to? Really?"

The Seeker's posture eased. "No." She sheathed her blade and let out a little puff. "I cannot expect you to be weaponless with the sky raining demons."

"Glad you see it my way," Tal said, smirking. He spun the stave, getting a feel for its balance. It was anything but balanced, wobbling awkwardly, and the wrapping at the handle flopped and felt sticky. He winced when he caught a rough patch and got a splinter.

"Creators dammit." He sucked on his palm, trying to pick the splinter out with his teeth. "Maybe you were right after all, Seeker. I _should_ drop this thing." When he felt the little wooden burr between his teeth he turned and spat. Looking back, Tal saw the Seeker frowning at him almost quizzically. But…was that a little glimmer of amusement? Or was it just annoyance?

He grinned and explained, "Splinter."

The Seeker grunted in what might have been acknowledgement or maybe amusement, then turned on her heel and started marching again. "Come, mage."

"I've got a name," Tal told her, trotting to walk at her side.

"I never would have suspected," she replied grumblingly.

"It's Tal," he said, ignoring her sarcasm. "Short for Talassan. I was named after my father." He smirked at her, though she didn't meet his gaze. _I am going to make you laugh before we die,_ he thought and set the goal. Best to think about _that_ rather than the shit-storm his life had become.

The green light in his hand crackled, aching bone-deep. Tal shook it out absently and tried not to think about that either. _Never liked that hand anyway._

"You know what my name means?" Tal asked, determined to keep chatting even though the Seeker clearly had no interest in anything but marching them both straight to the asshole of the void itself. She didn't answer or acknowledge him, but Tal didn't let that stop him. He'd had lots of one-sided conversations in life. Like the time he chatted up snails as a child, alone and shunned by most of his clan at the Keeper's orders. Or the time he'd talked to the Enavuris river, singing it a little tune his father sung for him before leaving in the night on some mysterious errand as usual. Or when he walked with Templars in a caravan as a captive, a Circle mage they had to escort from Hasmal to…well, he forgot where, exactly, because he escaped and never got there. But he'd chattered at the Templars then, too, just to ease the tension and boredom. He wasn't about to stop now.

"Talassan means two-hundred arrows," he said. "Nice, right? Don't you wish your soldiers had two-hundred arrows each right now? You know, I am a mage, but I am _killer_ with a bow. I had to be. My clan trained me up as a hunter because our Keeper was an ass."

The Seeker said nothing as they marched on.

* * *

Eventually the Seeker led Tal to a bit of ruins where a greenish blob hung in the air, groaning and dripping Fade ether, spewing demons that a handful of soldiers fought at its base. "A rift!" she cried and drew her sword, leaping down to join the fray.

Tal hesitated, considering how easy it'd be to slip away now. He could take on invisibility and then—he flinched as something jerked inside him, repulsed. _Coward._

"Fuck off," he grumbled, glaring out at the snowy patch where human soldiers fought shades spilling out of the green…rift? Tear? Mini-breach? Tiny demon spewing void-asshole? Whatever it was, it was dangerous and Tal really preferred running. His left hand had crackled, gleaming the same green as the thing spewing the demons. Fade-magic, or Fade ether related, somehow. He scowled down at his hand, wondering if the invisibility spell would hide the glow of the damnable mark or if the Seeker would be able to track him down when he glowed like a firefly.

Then Tal's eyes landed on two nonhumans fighting below and his mouth fell open with shock as he recognized them. The dwarf was a writer he'd met in the Hasmal Circle, who'd also been detained by Seeker Pentaghast. The other was an elven mage, bald and tall and surprisingly broad for one of the People.

 _Revas._ He frowned, hands clenching into fists. _You son of a bitch!_

He leapt off the ledge now, hurrying as he cast at the demons. His crappy stave gave him another splinter and he cursed it with pain but kept on casting. Lightning, fire, and spirit in rapid bursts. He wished he had his sister's talent for summoning Fade rock because it was so satisfying to clobber demons with the stones, but his fireballs were powerful enough as they burned the shades into ash.

Then, suddenly, Revas was at his side, grabbing his wrist. "Quickly, before more come through!" He pulled Tal toward the green blob in the air and thrust his left palm up to it. Pain tore at Tal's bones and muscles. He squirmed, gritting his teeth, trying to brace against it and endure it. Finally an instinct—or maybe it was just that that asshole Revas released his wrist—made Tal clench his fist and jerk down. The green blob hissed and flickered, diminishing with a spurt of green ether.

And then it was gone. The ruins and the mountains directly around them were suddenly silent except for the ragged breathing of the soldiers who'd survived. All of them stared at Tal, eyes wide with some emotion that made him fidget.

"What?" he blurted. Did he have a booger hanging out of his nose? He _had_ sneezed earlier and shot out a bit of snot. The Seeker had noticed and sneered with disgust and that made Tal wonder if maybe she _couldn't_ laugh. Blowing out snot was _always_ funny.

"It is as I suspected," Revas said then, breaking the silence with a tight smile. "I theorized the mark on your hand could close the rifts that have opened in the breach's wake. It seems I was correct."

Tal bristled and shot Revas a glare. Words bubbled up inside him, curses mostly. _Why are you alive? It would be easier if you were dead, you bastard. Then all the times I defended you to Rosa wouldn't feel like I betrayed her._ Forcing a smile onto his lips, he said, "Hi there, Revas. Long time no see."

Now Tal saw the remorse darkening the other man's blue eyes a moment before he looked away. "It is good to see you," he said, though he sounded hesitant and his expression was almost wary.

Tal forced a smile onto his lips; though doing so made his guts twist up to the point of pain. It was as if something inside him actively fought his feigned friendliness. "Sure is," he said, though he felt his mouth quirking down and knew his eyes would give him completely away. A heartbeat later he blurted, "Where the fuck were you the past year?"

Revas stared at him, brow furrowed slightly and his blue eyes pained.

Tal wanted to curse himself. Where was his usual charisma and charm? Usually he could fudge and schmooze his way through encounters far more awkward and tense than this one. Now it was all he could do to bite his tongue to keep the resentment he felt toward this man for abandoning Rosa from boiling over into murderous rage.

"I had other responsibilities," Revas replied in a low voice, somber and sad.

A little dizzy spell made Tal grimace and shake his head, trying to clear it and suppress the anger. That righteous indignation and rage was so… _odd._ He opened his mouth to answer only to break off when Varric came trotting over. The dwarf puffed, winded slightly from the battle, and carried his infamous crossbow still in his arms. "Stoic!" he said, grinning. "Revas said you were the Seeker's prisoner, the sole-survivor. Andraste's ass. I didn't believe it!"

"Well," Tal said, spreading his arms. "Believe it, I guess. Though, honestly, I'm not sure _I_ believe it most of the time." He grinned now. "Do you still have that flask of whiskey like you did in the Circle?"

Laughing heartily, Varric holstered his crossbow onto his back and opened his coat. A second later he produced a silver flask and lifted it, shaking it to let Tal hear the musical alcohol tinkling inside. "You know me so well, Stoic. I always come prepared."

"Creators bless you, man," Tal said and grabbed the flask from Varric. As he unscrewed it he caught Revas eyeing him with a small frown. The broiling rage rose up again. Tal pivoted and took a step closer to Revas, mana bubbling with eagerness and his free hand clenching into a fist. "What's your problem?" he snapped.

He glowered at Revas, daring him to respond as he lifted the flask to his lips and took the first few mouthfuls of precious, liquid fire. Then the Seeker barreled into their little reunion, having finished chatting with the soldiers. Her brow furrowed as she spotted the flask and, fast as lightning, she grabbed Tal's wrist. "Give me that."

Tal spluttered, choking as the Seeker took the alcohol away with a sneer. "Have you no common sense?" she asked as she thrust out one gloved hand, waiting for Tal to hand over the cap. "We will be fighting for our lives. None of us can afford to be inebriated." Tal, stupefied, handed the cap over to her and watched as she screwed it back on and then shoved it at Varric. "Do not give the prisoner alcohol again, _Varric."_ She spat the dwarf's name like a curse.

"What?" Varric rejoined, tucking the flask away. "He just closed the rift! I'd say he's earned a little celebration. Besides, there's not enough left to get anyone drunk."

The Seeker huffed disgustedly and then looked at Revas, asking him about closing the rift and the mark on Tal's hand.

Tal clenched his jaw and stared down at his boots, waiting for this suicide march to continue as he debated with what, if anything, he should say to Revas about Rosa…and then he wondered why neither the dwarf nor Revas had asked about her…but the answer was obvious, probably. The Seeker and her people must have questioned Shokrakar and the other Valo-Kas who _didn't_ die in the Conclave explosion. They would know who was and wasn't a member of the mercenary party. Revas and Varric must have learned Tal was here without his sister.

But…did they know _why?_

As they set off again, heading for the Seeker's forward camp, Tal fell behind to walk beside Varric. Revas and the Seeker trudged on ahead. He didn't trust himself to talk civilly to Revas so it had to be Varric—even though he felt queasy and kept hearing a voice cursing him for being a _"coward"_ and taking the _"the coward's path"_ in avoiding his sister's cold, aloof lover.

"So," Tal said, clearing his throat as they walked, crusty snow crunching underfoot. "Want to hear the most awkward thing?"

Varric smirked. "I'm all ears, Stoic. I love gossip."

"Well," Tal said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "Revas and my sister were an _item_ last year. He left her for Dirthamen knows what and why, but he promised to come back and…" Tal snarled to himself, shaking his head.

Varric grunted. "I never would have taken Chuckles for that kind of guy to be honest." His brown eyes searched over Tal, keen and observant. "You okay there, Stoic?"

Blowing out a breath, Tal scowled. "I'm…not sure." He wrinkled his nose, staring off at Revas. "I kinda want to punch him in the face. Like a lot, actually." He swallowed. "What, ah, what exactly do you and shithead up there _know_ about the Valo-Kas? The mercenaries I came to the Conclave with…?"

Varric shrugged, sobering. "I know a lot of them are dead now." He smiled sadly. "Actually, funny thing, Revas was the one who watched over you when you were unconscious. He did mention Violet when I asked. She didn't come to the Conclave with the mercenaries…?"

"Yeah," Tal admitted, grimacing. "She…wasn't feeling up to it." He wanted to spin a lie but saying the words felt like chewing glass. _Coward._ He should march up to Revas, challenge him to a duel, and reveal the truth to the honorless bastard.

There was that… _oddness_ again.

"Well," Varric said, chuckling darkly. "Seems like Violet was smarter than all of us. Luckier, too."

"Yeah," Tal agreed, trying to breathe deeply to ease that volatile anger still burning inside. He needed to _fight_ something, anything…

Almost as if in answer to this thoughts, Tal heard the groan of another of those green blobs…the smaller tears in the Veil. Little demon-spewing assholes.

"All right," he shouted, heart thundering with raw excitement as he drew his staff. "Let's do this bitch!"

Varric had only just reached for Bianca as Tal Fade-stepped forward into battle, charging past both the Seeker and Revas. When a wraith flung caustic spirit magic at him Tal let it smash into him, burning. He embraced the pain, gritting his teeth, with no thought to a barrier at all. He flung fireballs and dodged, spinning about to use his stave like a sword so he could thwack the nearest wraith. "Die, filth," he shouted.

And then a shade came slithering for him. It pounded Tal with its fists and Tal took that blow too, heedless of the pain even as he felt a little trickle of blood flow from his nose. "Is that all you've got, fuck face?" he yelled and then sent a lightning bolt crackling over the battlefield.

More caustic spirit magic slammed into him and Tal staggered, almost falling to his hands and knees. He blinked down at the snow as he felt the tingle of friendly magic wash over him and realized Revas had tossed a barrier over him. Turning round, Tal hurled more fireballs at the wraith that had attacked him, uncaring that his nose hurt from the shade's blow or that his skin burned from the spirit magic hits he'd taken.

He was dizzy from the frenzy of attacking when the last demon died. Revas shouted at him to close the rift and he had to swallow his rage all over again, sitting on the impulse to go over and try to get Revas to fight him. With great effort, Tal lifted his palm to the rift and let the strange magic of it close the green blob off with a gurgle of Fade ether.

When it was over the Seeker called for the men on the other side of the gates to open. They did so, shouting and cheering at Tal's success. Tal grinned, beaming at the recognition even as a niggling worry grew in his mind. He wiped at the moisture trickling from his nose and scowled at the sight of red blood on his hand.

"You fight like you have some anger issues to work off," Varric told him, clapping him on the shoulder as they walked onto the stone bridge of the ruins that must be the "forward camp."

"Yeah," Tal muttered, sniffing. "Maybe I do." Except he didn't. Rosa and _babae_ —Felassan—had taught him to fight and it wasn't like _that._ Sure, Tal had hurled fireballs and lightning, but he hadn't bothered defending himself at all. Now he could already feel his body's fatigue from the fight. He had plenty of mana still, maybe even more than usual, but that was _not_ the right way to fight. Yet, for some reason, Tal had lost all sense when fighting the demons. It wasn't like him. How could he forget everything he'd been taught just like that?

He considered it while the Seeker talked with the redhead who'd questioned him when he first awoke and a pompous old man from the Chantry. Tal phased out most of their conversation until the old man was stabbing a finger in his face and demanding he be shackled. Fire leapt into Tal's hands before he could stop it and everyone around him gasped with alarm. The Seeker's hand went to her blade and the redhead woman looked as though she would draw the bow strapped to her back.

Tal sniffed at the blood oozing from his nose, clenching his jaw as he forced himself to release the magic and grinned, trying to disarm everyone. "Sorry. You startled me Roddick."

" _Roderick,"_ the Chantry man retorted with a sneer.

"Dick," Tal said with a shrug. "Close enough."

"Why you—"

"Enough," the Seeker interrupted, moving to stand between the old man and Tal. "The prisoner is the only one who can close rifts. We need him."

 _We don't need the old man,_ Tal thought but bit back the words. The mana still frothed in his core, overeager. Fighting the demons from the rift outside the gates hadn't been enough.

 _This isn't right,_ he thought, frowning. _This isn't me._ He'd never had trouble with impulse control (in a fight, that is), never lapsed in self defense during a fight. Creators, he halfway felt as though he'd challenge a high dragon herself to fight just for the thrill…

Then realization hit him and he cursed aloud, blustering. "Shit. Fuck. Shit-fuck-shit-dammit to the Void."

The humans, Varric, and Revas were all staring at him with varying expressions of dismay, annoyance, or suspicion. Tal felt his cheeks flush hot with humiliation—but also horror. "Sorry," he muttered and then, though his stomach twisted with an impotent rage that wasn't his own, he turned on his heel and started to stomp away, back the way they'd come.

"Stop!" the Seeker shouted. "Stop, mage!"

"I have a name," Tal grumbled, but he kept going. He had to, even though that _other_ inside him writhed with loathing. _You are a coward,_ da'len. _Turn back. Face the threat. You_ must _do what is right and what is brave!_

"Kiss my ass," he snarled at that other inside him and then dared speak its name: "Rogathe."

Somehow, sometime, he managed to wind up possessed by his sister's friendly spirit of bravery.

He heard and sensed magic behind him then. A cold air burst on his back from Fade-stepping. He whipped around; fire in his hands. Sure enough he saw Revas reaching for him. Tal snarled and flung a fireball at the other man. "Son of a bitch," he yelled. "Fuck off! Run away and leave just like you left Rosa!"

The fireballs were ineffectual, breaking on Revas' powerful barrier. _Shit,_ Tal thought. Revas had grown a lot in power from their last duel in the Hasmal Circle when he'd barely had enough mana to fight at all. He didn't think to use a barrier of his own in the brief scuffle as Revas grabbed his wrist. Tal almost laughed with triumph when he saw the other man grimace with pain from the fire burning in Tal's hands. But then he felt familiar magic hit him. It was the sleep spell his father had taught him, long forgotten by others.

Well, that basically confirmed what Rosa wouldn't tell him about her lover. Revas had to be Elvhen like their father to know that spell. Or the son of an Elvhen survivor.

"Fuck," Tal cursed and then the blackness closed over him.

* * *

Tal woke with a jolt to the slapping sound of flesh on flesh. Gasping, he opened his eyes and saw red crystals and stone around him. He lay against cold gray rock and Revas was knelt at his side. Past the other elf Tal saw the green tear of the breach. Stones hovered impossibly in the air and Tal's skin prickled with the strange magic here and the thinness of the Veil.

His cheek also stung from both a physical blow and a spell. Revas had cancelled out the sleep spell with some other magic to waken him.

"You bastard," Tal growled, glowering at the older man.

"We can speak later," Revas said, his brow furrowed and his lips pinched. His hand snatched up Tal's left wrist. "You are needed now. You must seal the breach." His blue eyes softened with a touch of desperation. "Please."

Tal swallowed, trying to contain the dangerous heat of rage simmering inside. _"It's Rogathe,"_ he said, using elven in case anyone could overhear him. _"Its inside me. I don't know how or when."_

Revas' eyes widened. He went still for a moment and then his gaze flicked to the rocks off to Tal's right and left, as well above them. "I see," he murmured, muscles in his jaw flickering. When he looked down to Tal again he nodded as though he had come to a decision. "I will stay close to you in the battle to come and I will ensure we send Rogathe back to the Fade—assuming we survive this."

Tal managed to dredge up a smile. On this topic he knew Revas was trustworthy. He'd helped Rosa when Rogathe possessed her, too.

But to get to that he'd need to survive and redeem himself from when he lost his nerve at the forward camp and tried to flee. His nose ached. The shade from earlier had really walloped him, apparently. Nothing but to get to it. "Okay. I'll take that. Not like I want them to kill me as an abomination."

Revas nodded again and extended his hand out, ready to help Tal up. "I will ensure it does not come to that."

Tal snorted at the other elf's confidence and then grabbed his hand. He drew out his shitty stave and faced the breach high above. He expected to feel a twinge of fear or trepidation at whatever was about to happen—and his gut promised it wouldn't be good—but his heart thundered in his ears with excitement only. _A fight!_

He sighed. "Fuck you, Rogathe," he grumbled and then thrust his left palm up to the rift, wincing at the pain. "Let's close this bitch!"

* * *

After Tal stabilized the breach he lost consciousness. Solas volunteered to carry him, as he had when he had knocked out the young elf. This time the Seeker, Sister Nightingale, and the Commander of the fledgling Inquisition didn't try to suggest Tal be manacled. Solas had tried to explain away Tal's brief flight on the bridge at the forward camp with moderate success, but it was stabilizing the breach and closing the rifts that _truly_ protected Tal and impressed the humans.

The Anchor had stabilized miraculously with the breach, mirroring one another like conjoined twins. Solas managed to convince Leliana and Seeker Pentaghast to allow him to stay near to Tal, to tend his mark as needed. The reluctant and crotchety herbalist was happy enough to let Solas take over caring for the young elven mage, but Leliana often placed one of her scouts in the room with him during his visits with Tal. She knew Tal and Solas had a past history, having both been members of the Hasmal Circle around the time it rebelled. The Seeker knew of Tal less than she did Rosa, but the coincidence that these two mages from Hasmal should be here at the Conclave was indeed suspicious. Solas was grateful all over again that Rosa wasn't present. Had she been here at Haven and somehow managed to survive the explosion too, it would have cast another layer of suspicion on himself and Tal.

He tried not to let himself consider Rosa. After discovering—to his utter shock and complete horror—that the Anchor had been bestowed on _Tal_ , he'd immediately searched the Fade for some sign of Tal's sister. Dread and shame had already been heavy on him, not just for abandoning Rosa and now inadvertently condemning her brother, but also for all the lost life at the Conclave for _no reason._ All of his plans had gone awry. The orb was gone. Corypheus showed no sign of being dead ad he'd intended. But the Divine and hundreds, perhaps thousands of others were.

It was a mercy he did not deserve, a relief had had not earned, when he felt Rosa in the Fade. As two Dreamers they often felt one another as distant echoes. Solas could block himself from Rosa with techniques he knew from Elvhenan, when Dreamer warfare and subterfuge had been everyday affairs. Rosa did not know those tricks and so she was as easy to detect as the moon in the night sky for Solas. He had only to look.

He never approached her and didn't dare enter her dreams. The moment he did that he knew he would falter and give into temptation. The past year had been torturous as he fought his own intense desire to return to her, take comfort in her presence and share pleasure. But happiness, even fleeting, wasn't something he deserved and he could not deceive Rosa knowing who and what she was—the daughter of his long time friend and agent, Felassan, whom he'd killed last fall.

Watching Tal as the youth slept only twisted the dagger pain of loss and shame in his chest. Tal had dark hair where Felassan had pale blond hair, but otherwise he very much resembled his father. Now that he knew what to look for Solas saw the familiar lip shape, ears, eyes, and long, Elvhen featured face in the youth's profile. He'd thought Tal resembled Mythal's sons and grandsons when he'd first met the siblings in the Circle. Now he knew why.

 _Ir abelas,_ he thought at Tal's sleeping form as he held the young man's left hand and brushed his thumb across the Anchor imbedded there. _You and your sister do not deserve any of this._

* * *

After six straight days with no sign of her brother or Mahanon in the Fade, Rosa started bursting into hysteric tears at any quiet moment she wasn't distracted. Deshanna and Ashani, clan Lavellan's healer and mother to Mahanon, advised she relax and drink calming teas. So she did, huddled in halla and bear pelts as she sat around the hearth fire and listened to Negan, the clan's hunt master, tell the children stories of the Creators.

"Once, long ago, Andruil, great goddess of the hunt, grew tired of chasing everyday animals for sport and meat," the old man said in his rasping voice. "So, she decided to take up her greatest weapons and to stalk the Forgotten Ones and the terrible beasts in the Void itself."

Deshanna, sitting beside Rosa, hummed in the back of her throat. "My dreams have been troubled lately," she commented, her breath fogging out. "I look to the southwest at night and there's a glow there on the horizon since the day we heard the thunderous crack in the cloudless sky." She turned her head, her brown eyes glittering orange in the firelight. "Have you noticed anything in your Fade-walking, _da'len?"_

Rosa sipped at her tea, swallowing before she nodded once. "I would say that light is the borealis, the sky lights I used to see with my birth clan in the Brecilian forest but…" She frowned. "It's not natural. It doesn't _feel_ right."

In fact, the Fade itself didn't feel right since that crack of thunder in the cloudless sky. The Veil seemed turbulent as the Waking Sea in a storm now. Rosa often felt it thinning around her, stretching and straining. Sometimes she could feel demons and spirits on the other side, straining toward her. As a Dreamer she glowed brightly to them, a beacon in the physical world.

Deshanna's expression went heavy with remorse. "I'm sorry, Rosa." She didn't say what she apologized for, but Rosa already knew.

She swallowed the sudden aching lump in her throat, finding it hard to breathe. Her father was dead, gone for over a year now. Her brother had gone southwest to the Frostbacks for the Conclave to represent his clan alongside Deshanna's envoy of two hunters to act as spies for the People. Mahanon went with Tal, determined to safeguard and watch over Rosa's brother while she could not. Lerand, another Lavellan clan hunter, left as well. Taehon, Lerand's father, looked increasingly miserable as the days passed. Like Rosa, he feared the worst. Rosa was their connection to the outside world and the Conclave as a Dreamer and her sense of all of their men had gone dark.

How much longer would she deny the obvious?

They were dead. All of them.

With trembling hands, Rosa shifted in her furs and extended one hand out to set her cup, half-consumed, onto the bench at her side. "I need to sleep, Keeper."

"You need to eat, _da'len,"_ Deshanna chastened her in a soft voice, tender and sympathetic.

"I'm fine," Rosa said, dismissing the concern. Her stomach felt hollow and shrunken, unable and unwilling to accept nourishment with the grief looming over her.

Deshanna frowned, clearly disagreeing, but she said nothing further as Rosa got to her feet and started shuffling her way toward the aravel she and Mahanon had shared until he had left a few months ago. She kept the furs wrapped tightly about herself as she climbed into the aravel and pulled the hatch shut behind her. Sniffing and swallowing constantly to keep her grief at bay, Rosa went to her pallet and lay down. She was careful to position herself, her sling, and her furs before she rested her head and let the Fade take her in.

And almost immediately she felt Tal's presence. It was faint, hard for her to locate, but it was there.

"Tal!" she shouted as the Fade ether swirled around her, thick and impenetrable. She made out rocky projections. The ground glowed green in eerie, jagged shapes. Reddish crystals circled overhead.

Rosa wrapped her arms around herself. "Tal!" She shut her eyes and gripped the Fade, willing it to bring her brother's consciousness to her. The Fade warped, moving and twisting as it acquiesced. Then she heard her brother's voice croak.

"Rosa?"

She opened her eyes and saw Tal standing in front of her in his green mercenary armor. His feet looked huge and bulky, unbearably awkward inside boots when he normally went barefoot. He looked pallid and thinner than she remembered, with gray circles under his eyes. Rosa didn't care as her heart swelled with relief and love. She ran for him, throwing her arms around him in a crushing bear hug.

" _Da'isamalin!"_

Tal chuckled, feigning a choking noise as he patted her back. "Rosa! Great to see you, but can you _not_ choke me, maybe?"

"This is the Fade," she said, pulling back from him to playfully cuff the back of his head, mussing up his dark curls. "You don't need to breathe here."

"Could have fooled me," Tal said, grinning as he shrugged.

"Tal," she said, gripping him by the shoulders. "What happened to you? We heard a crack in a clear sky and at night in the southwest there's a glow in the sky. It's been _six days_ since I talked with you last." She broke off, blinking as her eyes went hot with tears. "I thought you were dead."

"Well," Tal said, smiling wanly, _"I'm_ not."

Rosa's heart clenched in her chest with dread. The way he'd said that made it clear something terrible _had_ happened. "Tell me," she said, steeling herself for the worst.

And as Tal told her about it—the explosion at the Conclave that destroyed the temple and probably killed all the Dalish who'd accompanied Tal as well as hundreds others, the strange mark burning in his left hand, his status as a quasi-prisoner of the _shemlen_ , and that somehow Rogathe had possessed him—Rosa gawked at her brother with mounting shock. And then, finally, Tal scoffed and said, "Oh, but the best part of all this?" He edged closer, a knowing look hardening his features. "Revas is here."

The name hit her like a slap to the face. Her heart hammered against her breastbone. She recoiled from Tal, letting him go as if just the mention of Revas— _Solas—_ had contaminated him. "Have you said anything?" she asked, stilted.

Tal snorted. "No. Of course not." Then he looked away and frowned. "I mean other than calling him names and ragging on him for being a right shithead. I couldn't keep it from popping out because I was just so _mad._ It's Rogathe, but…"

She let out a choking laugh before she could stop herself, feeling a flutter of affection all over again for her brother. She knew all too well how hard it was to watch one's tongue when Rogathe shared the space and assumed control of the reins partly. "At least Revas can help you with that."

"Yeah," Tal grumbled. "But…did you want me to say something? Rogathe thinks he should know."

Rosa stared down at the sandy soil of the raw Fade, watching the ether drift by on invisible currents. She sucked in a breath and shut her eyes. "Han is dead," she said, feeling a lump in her throat as she faced that. She hadn't loved him, but he was a good partner and utterly devoted. He'd been so determined to protect Tal for her that he'd wound up dying and now Rosa was a widow.

"Probably," Tal admitted, sniffing.

"And the sky's torn open and S— _Revas_ is there," Rosa muttered, shaking her head. "Somehow I don't think that's an accident."

"He isn't just some flat-ear," Tal agreed. "I mean, I know you don't want to tell me what you know, but it seems obvious." He growled back in his throat with irritation. "I don't see why you bother keeping that rat-bastard's secrets, _asamalin."_

Rosa sighed. Silence fell for a few moments and then Tal asked, "So, what do you want me to do?"

She lifted her head, smiling at him. "I want you to stay safe until I get there."

Tal blanched and raised both hands as if to ward her off. "Oh, no, no, no. That is a _bad_ idea. Varric and I were just talking about how lucky it was you _weren't_ here. And you can't make the journey with—"

"The clan should bury our people and mourn them properly," Rosa cut in firmly. "And you're the only brother I have. I'm not about to sit idly by out of fear."

"See," Tal grumbled, smirking. "This is why Rogathe gets along so well with _you._ You sound like a spirit of bravery even when you're not possessed."

"Well," Rosa said, smiling. "I have to live up to my name, don't I?" She nodded, more to herself than him as the idea solidified in her mind. "I need to go to you. To bury our dead. And I need to confront Revas."

"About what happened at the Conclave or—"

"All of it," Rosa said and then, before she could say more she felt the Fade ripple. A sharp cry cut through her mind. She grimaced. "I have to wake up now." She stared at Tal seriously. "Stay safe, little brother."

"I got this, _asamalin,"_ he said, winking at her. "Now go take care of Elia."

Rosa woke with a sharp gasp. The sound of her baby's cries echoed through the aravel. She knew the shrill sound of her hungry daughter now like she knew the sigh of the wind through the trees around Wycome. Shifting under the furs, Rosa pulled the baby's sling closer and stroked her downy brown hair. In the light she knew it glinted with highlights of red, a color she assumed came from Solas.

"Shhhh," she said, trying to hush the baby's cries and get her to nurse. Eliana took her nipple quickly, suckling vigorously. She was always a hungry baby, plump and growing fast at about five months now—and already a Dreamer. Rosa had felt her presence in the Fade even before the baby was born. Rosa had spoken with her mother in the Fade and learned that _she_ had done the same thing, so it wasn't apparently unusual. Still, Rosa couldn't shake the concern that Eliana might grow to be more of a handful than she could handle. Eliana might need someone more experienced in magic and Dreamers than her grandmother and mother. She'd need an Elvhen mentor, just as Rosa had had in Felassan.

Solas might not wish to be a partner or father, but she suspected he wouldn't be able to turn his back completely on their child.

All the more reason she had to go to Haven and confront him.

* * *

**Next Chapter**

"Are you trying to tell me Tal isn't behaving himself?" Rosa asked, arching a brow.

"He is…" Josephine seemed to fidget, blushing. "Rather _too_ fond of drink."

"That is putting it mildly, Josie," Leliana cut in playfully. Looking to Rosa, she said, "We're glad you're here. I believe the Herald needs a steadying hand. Cassandra has not been able to provide it. She's…too overbearing."

* * *

Oh, Tal, you're in for a wild and crazy ride! Next time...a certain "Fade expert" meets a certain infant in dire need of a father-figure, or a teacher at the very least...


	2. When Solas Met Eliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition drags Tal out to the Hinterlands, but he's hardly a suitable leader for the fledgling organization with his mounting alcohol problem and possession. Meanwhile, Rosa comes to Haven with some of clan Lavellan and a certain baby girl in need of a father figure.

Tal groaned when someone bumped his knee, hard. "Fuck off," he growled. That was his mantra these days. Too bad no one ever listened to him.

"Wake up," Revas' voice called from impossibly high over him.

Tal groaned again as he cracked open one eye and saw the pallid elven man glowering down at him, impatient and disgusted. His bald head shined faintly in the light from dawn streaking in through the trees near the lake by Haven village. Revas had prodded Tal with his staff and now leaned on it like a walking stick as he stared down at Tal, waiting for him to respond.

"I said fuck off," Tal repeated, slurring the words. He felt Rogathe stir faintly inside him, but the spirit reacted to alcohol worse than Tal did—in fact, had Tal been in a better mood he would have laughed about how the spirit couldn't hold its liquor. Alcohol dulled the spirit's reactions, giving Tal an easier time of controlling it. Of course, those weren't the techniques Revas recommended and Tal knew that disappointed the other man.

Well, fuck him. It wasn't as if Revas hadn't ever disappointed Tal.

"Seeker Pentaghast has arranged for us to journey to the Hinterlands," Revas said and knocked the staff on Tal's knee once more. "She sent me to fetch you. I suggest you rise and make yourself presentable before she sends Varric to wake you instead. My understanding is that he will douse you with a bucket of water from the lake."

Tal snorted, rubbing his face with one hand. "Nugshit. It's covered with ice."

"I could melt it for him," Revas suggested.

"Mythal's tits," Tal growled. "I _hate_ you right now."

"Your ire is misdirected," Revas told him blankly. "You have brought this state of affairs upon yourself with too much to drink."

Tal grunted as he hefted himself into a sitting position. He had collapsed here beneath the boughs of a pine around the lake outside Haven in the hope of escaping just this sort of wake up. The Seeker, Leliana, Cullen, and countless others liked to ambush him at all hours of the day and night, asking for his opinions and guidance. Like he was some kind of fucking prophet.

Fucking Herald of fucking Andraste.

"I have something for you," Revas said.

Tal grimaced as he craned his head up to stare at the older elf. "Yeah? Is it whiskey?"

"No," Rveas replied, sounding irritated. He reached into his tunic and pulled out a small carved figure of a wolf. "I have prepared this amulet to act as a binding for Rogathe until the breach has been sealed and we can safely exorcise it from you."

The breach seemed to affect Rogathe, locking the spirit inside Tal despite their efforts to get it out. With the spirit trapped inside him, or possibly unwilling to leave, Tal had to find other ways to keep the spirit controlled. Revas suggested meditation and ways of finding a calm center. Tal had other ideas. He was already fond of drinking and only grew more so as he discovered its ability to sedate Rogathe. Now he eyed the amulet with bleary eyes, trying to focus on it. Finally he reached out and took it from Revas' hold. "So…whaddaya gotta do?"

"The spell will activate with your blood," Revas told him. "It is very simple but effective. Rogathe will be bound and unable to manifest within you beyond the barest of influences."

"Okay," Tal said and, with clumsy fingers, pulled out a small dagger from his belt. Holding it aloft, he wagged it for Revas' benefit. "This is a fucking awesome utility knife. Gut a rabbit? You got it. Pick your nails? Done. Whittle wood? You bet." He changed his grip and slid the knife over his palm, wincing. "Cut yourself for a little blood magic? In a heartbeat."

Gripping the amulet with his bleeding hand, Tal smeared it liberally with crimson. "That do it?"

Revas nodded. "Yes. Allow it to dry and then wear it."

Tal made a face. "Fucking garish this thing is. Red wolf."

Revas sighed. "A simple thank you would suffice."

"Yeah?" Tal asked, arching a brow. "Okay…thanks." He blew on the amulet. "Dry already, you piece of shit."

Revas sighed again and turned on his heel, stave tapping the stones beneath the thin layer of snow. "Please return to Haven within the hour so we can depart for the Hinterlands."

"Yes, _mamae,"_ Tal grumbled as he continued puffing at the amulet. When the red-brown streaks of blood had at last dried, Tal slipped it on over his head. The pressure inside him faded abruptly and he blinked, realizing he had been feeling Rogathe more and more over the last few weeks. Relief made him sag and then fall backward into the snow, groaning. "Oh, fuck yes. _Thank you_ , Revas."

"You are welcome," Revas replied, genuine now. "Did you require any help getting prepared for the journey?"

Tal lifted one hand, waving at Revas dismissively. He let it flop back down into the snow and shivered. "I'm good. I got this."

"It does not appear that way from my position, _lethallin,"_ Revas said, a note of amusement coloring his voice. When Tal didn't reply Revas apparently took that as tacit agreement and walked toward him. Snow crunched under his bare feet. A moment later he stooped beside Tal and reached for him.

Tal let the older man take his weight and lift him up. The world spun, blurring together and he slumped, moaning and reaching for his head. "Oh, fuck me."

"I must politely decline," Revas quipped dryly.

Tal scowled. "Not funny, dude. Seriously. I think I'm going to have to—" He gagged and doubled over, retching into the snow—and onto Revas' foot wraps.

"Was that really necessary?" Revas complained, nose wrinkling with revulsion.

"Yep," Tal said, wiping his mouth with one sleeve. The armor Cassandra had supplied him with looked like glorified pajamas. Would anyone really notice a little spittle on one sleeve? Tough if they did notice, chances were none of them would dare call him on it save maybe the Seeker and Varric. And Revas, of course.

He spat, not bothering to aim, uncaring if he hit Revas' foot wraps again. Bastard deserved it, honestly. It'd been weeks now and he'd never mentioned Rosa. The topic was taboo. Tal never brought it up because doing so enraged Rogathe and risked exposing him as an abomination or whatever Cassandra would end up calling him as they ordered his death. It wasn't clear if Revas was avoiding the topic for the same reasons or if he just didn't want Tal to remember he'd once abandoned his sister in the Free Marches despite promising her he'd come back.

It wouldn't matter soon that Revas liked to bury his head in the sand. Or snow, rather. With Rogathe bound and Rosa on her way to Haven there soon wouldn't be any place for Revas to hide from the truth of what he'd done.

Unfortunately it looked like Rosa and the clan wouldn't reach Haven before Cassandra dragged them all to the Hinterlands.

Whatever. Tal intended to be shitfaced the entire way there and back. Varric kept him well-supplied, even if sometimes it tasted like piss because it was Chantry and Inquisition swill.

"It appears _I_ will also require a bath," Revas lamented with a longsuffering sigh.

"Speak for yourself, buddy," Tal said, slurring. "I didn't get vomit on me. I'm fine going without a bath."

"Perhaps your nose has ceased to function in your inebriated state," Revas muttered. "In that case, I think you should know you _are_ in need of a bath."

"Only if Cassandra agrees to wash me."

"I doubt even a desire demon in her shape would agree to that," Revas commented. "Now, please, let's keep moving."

* * *

When they saw the picket line and trebuchets from the snowy hills Rosa sent Negan, the clan's hunt master, up ahead with Samhel, one of the warriors who volunteered to make the journey. They picked a rocky promontory, hiding the aravel in the shelter of some trees nearby, and let the few halla with them graze on the sparse grass and pine bushes peeking through the snow. Rosa and the others gathered around their single aravel, huddling under furs for warmth as they waited, talking quietly as snow fell softly.

They took turns scouting, heading out to the rocky outlook over the road to gaze out at the village for signs of unrest or attack. Rosa suspected that this soon after the catastrophe the _shemlen_ would be primed to attack anything the least bit foreign or suspicious. It was a wonder they hadn't just lopped off Tal's head—but apparently he had some kind of bizarre magic they thought marked him as blessed by their dead prophet woman.

Rosa had to admit there was something…otherworldly about this place. The breach made the other elves with her gawk and quake with fear, but at the same time Rosa felt something prickling her skin that wasn't dread. When she risked asking the others with her a few of them replied in kind. It wasn't entirely fear they felt, but something else. Anticipation? It was hard to separate from their anxiety for whatever reception they'd receive from Haven.

It was nearly dusk before Negan and Samhel returned with two _shemlen_ escorting them. The humans wore armor Rosa had never seen in green and brown, with a symbol that appeared to be both Chantry sunburst and Templar sword in one. Except, as they drew closer, she saw the sunburst wasn't a sunburst. It was an eye.

The humans were armed but did not appear unfriendly. Both Negan and Samhel were allowed to jog ahead and move freely. Rinaya acted as scout, nodding to Samhel and Negan as they approached, scuttling up the rocks to leave the road. The humans soon followed them, having a tougher time in their unwieldy armor. When she could hear their grunting, Rosa opened the furs she wore and passed her sling to Ashani, the clan healer and her mother through bonding. The older woman accepted the bundle quickly, tucking furs around herself to hide the bulk of the baby in her sling.

The two humans were breathing rough as they reached Rosa. Negan, Samhel, and Rinaya stayed nearby, tense in case of unexpected aggression by the _shemlen._ Every elf knew humans couldn't be trusted, after all.

"We're here to escort you to Haven village," one of the men said, having caught his breath. He gestured to Negan. "The old man says you're kin to the Herald?"

Rosa nodded. "I am. Tal is my brother." She was silent a moment and then lowered her head, somber with the heaviness of grief. "We lost two members of our clan to the explosion that destroyed the Conclave. My brother's clan also lost someone. We'd like to honor them, reclaim their remains if at all possible."

Both men's expressions softened with sympathy. Rosa felt whatever hesitation and anxiety she'd carried melt away. These soldiers likely both grieved friends or peers as well. Tal had told her thousands died. It was a wonder Haven still had anyone left in it.

"I'm sorry," the man who spoke before said. "I doubt there's any remains for you and your people to take back. Just ashes, really. But you're welcome to look. Any kin of the Herald is welcome in Haven. Sister Leliana would be glad to add some Dalish to her roster of scouts, probably."

"We aren't here to join," Samhel muttered. His clenched jaw and narrowed eyes would likely be mistaken for hostility, but Rosa knew it was heartache and he was desperate not to reveal his emotions in front of strangers. Lerand, the other hunter Lavellan clan had sent to the Conclave, was his little brother. Now he was dead and Samhel had just heard there was nothing but ashes left for him to bury.

"Sorry," the soldier said, shrugging. "Didn't mean to offend."

"May we bring our aravel?" Rosa asked, motioning behind her toward the trees. "We have limited supplies to trade, but we will not be a burden. We can sleep in the aravel and—"

"Of course, of course," the soldier said, nodding. "Come with me."

As the group broke to gather the halla to haul the aravel down from its spot hidden behind some pines, Negan stepped close to Rosa and took her bicep. The old man was weathered by sun and a long life, but Rosa could still see his resemblance to Deshanna, his younger sister. His expression was stoic as he leaned close to her and said, "They say your brother is away. Do we really wish to move inside the village without him to protect us?"

Rosa nodded once. "I believe we will be safe here. There might be some hostility and suspicion, but they've elevated my brother into something…holy. Some of that may spill over onto us through me. As long as we behave with respect toward them, we should be fine until Tal returns."

Just then a baby's cry rent the air. Rosa turned quickly, tensing. The soldier that hadn't spoken earlier stopped to stare at Ashani, his brow furrowed with bafflement. Rosa hurried to the healer, opening her arms to take her daughter back.

"You brought a babe with you?" the soldier asked, sounding surprised.

Rosa ignored him. With one hand she tried to soothe Eliana while with the other she moved to help push the aravel as Rinaya wrangled the halla into position. The soldier blinked and seemed to forget his questions, rushing to help.

They drew a mixture of wide-eyed stares and sneers from Haven's populace. Once Rosa heard someone snarl, "Knife-ear scum." But when she tried to find who had spoken, scowling, no one stood out. They pushed the aravel inside the picket lines, just past a trader to the right. A trebuchet stood further down the pathway, unmanned and unnoticed currently. Rinaya and Samhel went to the trader to offer the limited wares Deshanna had sent with them while Negan watched the halla. Fioni, the clan's first apprentice to the hearth keeper, set about creating a cooking fire for an evening meal. Harl, Fioni's father and one of the clan's strongest warriors, stood guard with Ashani.

Once everything was set with her people, Rosa left with the soldiers, following them up through Haven to the Chantry that dominated it. The soldiers' metal boots scuffed and scraped on the stone floor while Rosa's wrapped feet whispered softly. She kept her furs around her, clasped in one hand. She _was_ cold, but not enough that she truly needed the furs. In truth it was to hide the sling she wore, bearing Eliana. Haven was full of strangers who might act in any number of unpredictable, dangerous ways. Better that they not see Eliana at all.

The soldiers led her to a room at the far end of the Chantry with strong, thick walls. They pulled the door open with a groan of rusty hinges. The sound startled Eliana and she squirmed, whimpering in that hesitant way Rosa knew meant she was anxious and working up a good cry. She sensed both soldiers staring at the furs she held closed, blinking with surprise. The three humans standing in front of her around a long table dominated by a map of southern Thedas also stared with varying expressions of confusion or surprise or—actually, the redhead seemed amused.

It was the redhead who spoke first. "Welcome to Haven. You must be Rosa of clan Lavellan, no?"

Rosa nodded, rocking on her feet and patting Eliana inside her sling without looking away from the three humans. "I am. Tal is my younger brother."

"We are pleased to meet you, my lady," the woman to Rosa's far right said. She had amber skin and dark brown eyes to complement her black hair. The clothing she wore was frilly, shouting wealth and stature. Necklaces and other trinkets tinkled metallically as she gave a little courtly dip of her head. "I am Ambassador Josephine Montiliyet."

She motioned with her quill off her clipboard, indicating the armored man standing in the middle. "This is Commander Cullen Rutherford." The blond-haired man smiled cordially to acknowledge her. Something about him set Rosa's spine rigid, though she couldn't say what. He was handsome and appeared friendly. It was something in his bearing, or his eyes…she couldn't place it.

The Ambassador moved on, indicating the redheaded woman wearing the cowl. "This is Leliana, Left Hand of the Divine." The redhead's lips curled in a coy little smile as she tucked her gloved hands behind her back, as if poised for violence or a graceful dance. Perhaps both.

"We are leaders within the Inquisition, which was founded by Divine Justinia before her death," Leliana explained. "Tal joined us some weeks ago, after attempting to close the breach. I've spoken with him and he's mentioned you."

Rosa smiled, chuckling. "I'm sure he said something along the lines of ' _I finally get away from my overbearing sister's protection and_ this _is what happens.'_ "

Leliana's smile broadened and Josephine suddenly appeared bashful, turning her head down and scribbling frantically on her clipboard. The Commander cleared his throat, drawing her attention to him. "Actually, I wonder if you might be able to help him with all this." His smile turned knowing and Rosa felt herself relax. "I have an older sister myself, and so I know there's no one better to whip a young man into shape."

"Are you trying to tell me Tal isn't behaving himself?" Rosa asked, arching a brow.

"He is…" Josephine seemed to fidget, blushing. "Rather _too_ fond of drink."

"That is putting it mildly, Josie," Leliana cut in playfully. Looking to Rosa, she said, "We're glad you're here. I believe the Herald needs a steadying hand. Cassandra has not been able to provide it. She's…too overbearing."

"I'm happy to help," Rosa said, still rocking in place to calm Eliana as the baby squirmed.

"But I can see you won't be able to travel extensively," Leliana put in, her blue eyes deliberately dropping to the lump beneath the furs Rosa clasped shut. Then the redhead changed her stance, moving her hands out in front of her as she took a step closer. Her smile was bright and tender, her eyes warm. "May I see the little one?"

Both Cullen and Josephine leaned forward, their postures and gazes revealing curiosity, not hostility. Rosa scanned the room, nervous despite the mood. Eliana continued gurgling and cooing every so often as the seconds stretched out. Finally, Rosa nodded and released her tight grip on the furs. They slid off her shoulders and she held them out in one hand, taking a step closer to the enormous table with its huge map of Thedas. "May I?" she asked.

"Be my guest," Cullen encouraged her.

Rosa folded the furs and set them on the table, careful not to knock over any markers on the map. Then she loosened the sling and adjusted Eliana, lifting her partly upright. The baby blinked sleepy eyes out at the room. Her brownish hair stood out at bizarre angles, ruffled and mussed by being confined in the sling. She had pink cheeks and her skin was warm, damp in places from when she had gummed her fingers and toes.

Leliana grinned, moving closer and clucking her tongue. "Hello there, aren't you adorable."

Eliana made eye contact with Leliana and grinned, toothless. She squealed, flailing her little fists and reaching toward the other woman. Rosa gripped her daughter around the middle, keeping her from pitching forward in her eagerness to interact with the redhead. Josephine and Cullen both chuckled with amusement.

"Is it a girl?" Cullen asked, sounding almost timid, as if shy suddenly. "Or a boy?"

"Yes, a girl," Rosa told him, beaming as the last of her anxiety fled. She could trust these humans. She felt that truth in her bones. "Her name is Eliana."

"A lovely name for a lovely baby," Josephine gushed, also grinning.

"Thank you," Rosa said. She didn't tell them that her daughter's name meant something bittersweet— _our conclusion, our end._ Eliana was the result of a brief and torrid affair with a man she knew had to be skulking somewhere here in Haven, a man who'd survived the fall of Arlathan and Elvhenan only to break her heart last winter.

With that in mind, Rosa cleared her throat and looked between the three humans, though they were all focused on her baby. "Can you tell me if there's an elven mage by the name of Revas here in Haven?"

All three humans reacted with surprise, their gazes lifting from Eliana to Rosa. It was Leliana who spoke, her brow furrowed. "Yes. Revas has been here since the explosion at the Conclave. But he is currently in the Hinterlands with the Herald, Seeker Pentaghast, and Varric Tethras."

Rosa's eyes widened with recognition. _Varric?_ And _Seeker Pentaghast._ Rosa knew that name, too. She covered the reaction by nodding her gratitude to the hooded redhead. "Do you know when Tal and the others will return?"

"Not precisely," Cullen replied, shrugging. "They've been gone some weeks already."

"The last raven I had from Cassandra said they would be returning within the fortnight," Leliana said. She smiled again as she saw Eliana squirming in Rosa's grip, still reaching for her. Something twisted just beneath the surface on Leliana's face, a sort of knowing expression. Rosa thought she would speak her revelation aloud that she knew who Eliana's father was, but instead she said, "If I'm not mistaken, you three were all members of the Hasmal Circle together, were you not?"

"We were," Rosa hedged. "Briefly. Revas is a friend of mine and I'd hoped to reacquaint with him. I…suspected he might be here. The outcome of the Conclave would have affected him more than Tal and I as he's an apostate and we're Dalish."

"Yes," Leliana said, pinching her lips together in thought. "I suppose you're right."

"Dalish don't belong in a Circle," Cullen said then, wrinkling his nose. "The Templars at Hasmal brought you in?"

"Yes," she replied, stiffening with caution. "It was a misunderstanding and ancient history now." She bounced Eliana as the baby began fussing, frustrated she could not reach Leliana. Rosa was glad of the distraction as she made a shushing sound and nuzzled her daughter's head and ear before saying, "If you don't mind, I should take my leave. Elia's getting cranky."

"Of course, Mistress Lavellan," the Ambassador said. "Such an adorable child mustn't be unhappy."

"If there's anything you or your people need you have only to ask," Cullen added earnestly.

"Thank you," Rosa said, smiling as she grabbed up her furs one-handed and started shrugging them on, trying to tuck an unwilling Eliana back into the shelter of the sling.

She left the meeting room and the Chantry, doing her best to keep her head high even as Eliana's fussing continued to draw curious and baffled stares. She could feel Eliana pawing at her chest, trying to find her breasts. She was hungry, as usual, but Rosa delayed until she had reached the aravel and sat beside Ashani and Fioni at the impromptu hearth the two women had set up. Both of them shot her knowing looks.

"My granddaughter is such a glutton," Ashani teased, grinning with a melancholy pride. Her son was dead and he hadn't fathered Eliana by blood, but Mahanon had loved her like his own. Ashani _was_ Eliana's grandmother, as much as Rosa's own mother was.

"Yes, she is," Rosa agreed as she fumbled under her furs and inside the sling, opening her armor to free one breast for her daughter to nurse. She'd stopped wearing Keeper armor for the present, using hunter armor for its greater accessibility. It was heavier, though paradoxically weaker. Still, the clan crafter hadn't gotten around to modifying her Keeper armor so she had to make do with this for the present.

"What did you learn about your brother?" Harl asked from where he stood a few paces away, scowling as he stared toward the curious _shems_ ogling the aravel from near the trader just down the path. He wore an enormous great axe on his back that Rosa knew he knew how to use. On the journey here Harl had slaughtered dragonlings that attacked them just south of the Waking Sea.

"He's not here just now," Rosa replied. "But he'll be back soon." She hesitated and then added, "And the humans want my help getting him to stop drinking."

Fioni and Ashani both burst out laughing. Harl smirked, restraining his own chuckles. Tal had only stayed with the clan about a week while he helped Rosa settle in and determined they would take her in, pregnant and all. That week was more than long enough for everyone in clan Lavellan to tag Tal as a playful, funny joker with a fondness for alcohol. By the time he left more than a few of Lavellan's teen girls—and _boys_ for that matter—nursed not-so-secret crushes on him. Fioni was one of them, actually. But, more than that, clan Lavellan was fond of him and they were happy to help Rosa look after him.

"I'm not sure the Great Mother herself could get your brother away from the bottle," Harl said, shaking his head even as he continued smirking.

"We'll see," Rosa said, letting out a little contented sigh as she sensed Eliana getting sleepy. "We'll see."

* * *

Tal's head pounded as if the horses were walking over it. The Seeker had refused to stop anywhere along their arduous journey back through the Hinterlands and into the Frostbacks, heading for Haven. She was "cutting him off." Tal rationed his own supply but self-discipline deserted him swiftly and he was out before they even left the Hinterlands. Varric hadn't shared; likely knowing Tal would burn through it like a Templar through lyrium.

So it was that Tal had now gone several days without a drop of alcohol. He slumped over in the saddle, feeling alternatively nauseous and then twitchy with anxiety. He palmed the wolf pendant, stained with his dried blood, obsessively. Each time he touched it he reminded himself he didn't _need_ to drink. He really _shouldn't_ drink. Everyone around him kept reminding him how he needed a clear mind for all the challenges ahead. They were right, but all Tal could think about was how _shit_ he was at leading or carrying any responsibility.

Just look at the state he'd left his clan in, for one thing.

He saw his Keeper, Nola, staring at him stunned and stricken in the dark, her lips swollen from their passionate kissing. _I'm_ s _uch a Creators-damned fool!_

"Tal," a familiar, velvety voice said in his ear.

Tal jerked upright, blinking and gazing around himself. He saw Revas had ridden up next to him and wore a concerned frown over his face. "Are you well?"

"Fuck no," Tal grumbled. "Nothing about the last few weeks has been _well."_ There was all the killing of mages and Templars, tending refugees, seeing the countless dead on the sides of the road from bandits and animal attacks. Demons spewing from every rift, frightening people into cults and early graves. There were decisions people kept looking to _him_ to make. Meanwhile Tal typically felt like he rarely had the knowhow or authority or confidence to decide what he should eat for breakfast, let alone how to help people or settle a stupid war he wasn't _really_ part of. Or _shouldn't_ be part of, anyway. Sure, he was a mage, but he was _Dalish._ Dalish weren't part of _anything_ except themselves!

Then there was Mother Giselle, yapping at him to go visit the "grand clerics." If Tal had been a dog he would have slunk off with his tail between his legs. Sure, Mother Giselle. Sure, go to the clerics. _That's like asking the halla to go talk to the wolf,_ he thought. T _hey won't eat you!_

And, most frustrating of all, Rogathe hadn't left him in the Hinterlands. Revas had met him in the Fade several times, trying to coax the spirit into communicating with them, but it remained stubbornly buried. The breach apparently kept it trapped even leagues away from Haven. So, it seemed Tal would have to live as a quasi-abomination for another few weeks or months, however long it took them to seal the damnable, cocksucking breach.

Revas pinched his lips together with disapproval. "You have let yourself grow addicted to drink."

Tal scoffed, waving the older elf away. "You want me to switch to lyrium instead?"

"Of course not," Revas chided. His expression softened. "I am merely concerned for you. I know a spell that may ease the symptoms."

Tal blew out a breath, shooting Revas a sidelong look that was halfway resentment and halfway admiration. It'd be _nice_ if his head didn't pound, but…

"I think you don't _get_ why I keep drinking, Revas," he muttered and then motioned at the mountains around them, the horses, the Seeker up ahead and Varric behind. "It's to forget all _this._ You think I was really cut out to be a leader? This is a joke. The humans think this is the will of their god and their prophetess, but honestly, I think it feels more like a divine joke, like the Dread Wolf set it up and now the old trickster is sitting back giggling as it all unfolds."

Revas grimaced, as if what Tal said was particularly distasteful. "I see no divine influence here. The mark in your hand is not divine, it is magic."

"It's the same Creators-damned magic that tore open the bloody Veil," Tal snapped. Then he huffed. "But I guess you're right. Last thing I want is to start sounding like I believe the humans and their horseshit."

They rode on in silence for some time. In the distance, Tal heard the clatter of metal on metal. They were nearing Haven. A little bubble of something other than misery swelled inside him. In his dreams, whenever he wasn't with Revas, Rosa had visited him. The sight of her always relieved his anxiety and distracted him from the weight of his responsibilities and the constant certainty that he was an incompetent fool. He knew she was at Haven and Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine had all welcomed her.

And she had Eliana with her.

Tal shot Revas a look, smirking with a sort of vindictive glee. He couldn't wait to see the shock on the older elf's face. _He deserves it,_ he thought and chuckled to himself as he prodded his mount to pick up speed, moving a touch faster. He purposefully kept Revas in the dark, utterly unknowing at Rosa's request. This confrontation was to be all hers. Revas had made _her_ suffer while Tal was just a bystander. Still, it was going to be _so_ deliciously rewarding to see Revas squirm as she confronted him with the full enormity of just what an asshole he was.

Revas prodded his horse as well, keeping pace with Tal. "You feel overwhelmed with the responsibility piled upon you," he said. "And you are afraid. Your drinking is to escape that fear."

Tal rolled his eyes. "Isn't that what I just said?" And it wasn't just the Inquisition and the mark in his hand that drove him to alcohol. It was the ache in his chest every time he saw Nola's stare recreated by desire and despair demons in the Fade and remembered…well, what an enormous _asshole_ he was, too. If he hadn't run, if he'd just _talked_ to her…he might still be with her and none of this would have happened. Arvin or Mahanon or Lerand, the three who'd died, might have the mark instead. Or maybe it would be one of the countless humans or dwarves or, Void take him, maybe even one of the Tal-Vashoth.

"You cannot afford to wallow in doubt," Revas said, speaking softly. "I have faith that you will grow to lead us. Every young man harbors uncertainties within himself. Every youth struggles in the beginning to find his place. No one is born to confidence and leadership. It must be earned, and _learned._ " His blue eyes narrowed, though they remained tender with empathy. "Act what you do not feel and eventually it will become real. We all shape ourselves much as we shape the Fade when we dream."

" _You_ shape the Fade," Tal muttered. "I'm a nobody, remember? _Rosa_ is the one who can shape the Fade." He enjoyed the way Revas' face paled at the mention of her. He lifted his marked hand, flexing the fingers. "If _she_ had this instead she'd know what to do."

"And that is because she was _raised_ to be a leader from childhood as her clan's First," Revas said, detached now in the way of a good teacher. "She was not born to leadership, but was taught. You have not had that benefit."

Tal buried the irritated scowl that tried to twist his face because he knew Revas was right, even as he casually used Rosa to make his point. He was glad for the umpteenth time that Rogathe had been bound. If the spirit was still free Tal was certain it would have exploded in rage. It _really_ loved Rosa and thought Revas was filthy scum unworthy of even speaking her name.

It was right, probably, but Tal was a lot more blasé about it. Revas wasn't _all_ bad, though he _was_ an asshole. But Tal could level with assholes. His father was one, after all, and Revas reminded him of his father. A _lot._

The wood-picket barricades of Haven came into view. The horses picked up speed, sensing food and water and rest at the end of the long journey. Their ears twitched nervously as they passed by where Cullen trained the men, jumpy at the flash of swords and the clang of metal. Stable-hands rushed out to take the horses' reins.

As soon as his mount was under control, Tal slid off it and started for the gate at a fast walk. He wanted to escape Cassandra's notice before she could strong-arm him into a debriefing with Cullen. He could already hear the two chatting, exchanging quick greetings as she, doubtless, tried to pull the commander away from overseeing his troops to come sit and look pretty for her, Leliana, and Josephine while they talked strategy regarding the grand clerics. They'd expect Tal to do the same, but really his job would be to sit and look ridiculous, a tattooed knife-ear savage barely out of his teens being paraded around as their _Herald._ Ludicrous! The only way he could sit through that sort of thing was if he were so drunk he wouldn't be able to squirm or think, short of trying not to pass out or vomit.

"Herald," Cassandra shouted from behind him. She must've seen him trying to escape.

 _I can't hear you,_ Tal thought and picked up his pace. _Can't hear you, Seeker._

He spotted the reddish color of an aravel sail sticking up over the picket and his heart lurched with anticipation. He actually _didn't_ hear any further shouting from Cassandra as he jogged up the stairs and rounded the trader's stall to the right. He saw the aravel and a few elves scattered around it with a small hearth fire crackling. They were roasting a hare over it, turning a spit. His mouth watered. After weeks of salted rations and chancy game they caught on the road, this smelled heavenly.

And there, sitting on a blanket a short distance from the fire, he saw his niece, grinning and flapping her chubby arms. An elven woman held her gently with one hand, keeping her from falling over or getting too close to the hearth. An older woman sitting next to them kept Eliana entertained, leaning close and making faces at the baby. Eliana squealed and reached for the woman's face and hair, her toothless grin spread wide over spitty lips.

"Tal," a voice said as, simultaneously, a hand landed on his shoulder. He flinched, frowning as he twisted to look back and saw Revas had caught up to him when he stopped. "The Seeker wishes a word," Revas said. But as he spoke he'd noticed the aravel and the elves sitting around it. A mixture of wariness and confusion creased his features.

"Tell her it can wait," Tal snapped and jerked his shoulder from Revas' grasp. He hesitated a second longer to observe Revas' ongoing surprise at the sight of the aravel and then hurried to the hearth. "Roar," he said, laughing as he pretended to swoop down on the baby.

The woman holding Eliana leaned back slightly, letting Tal scoop her up. "Zoom!" Tal said, careful to hold the baby safely while he spun, letting her squeal at the sudden motion. Then he lifted her so her belly met up with his face and blew a raspberry onto her stomach. "Roar! I'm going to eat you up! Nom, nom, nom."

Eliana screeched with laughter, kicking and flopping her arms. Her chubby fists grabbed at his curly hair. "Babababa," she called, spitting.

"Aw, c'mon," Tal said, tucking her against his shoulder and shucking her chin. She grabbed at his finger and tried to chew on it. "Say my name, kiddo. It's not baba. Try again."

Eliana blew spit bubbles on his finger, her blue eyes dancing. Then she reached for his face, trailing spitty fingers on his cheeks. Tal pulled back from her, nose wrinkling. "Yucky. I forgot how you're always sticky and wet." He glanced down at the elves of clan Lavellan, who watched him with amusement. "So, where's Rosa?"

"Went with Samhel and Negan to instruct the _shems_ in the stables how _not_ to handle the halla," the older woman said, chuckling. "They're clueless." She winked at Tal. "Good to see you again, Two-Hundred Arrows."

"Great to see you guys too, but," he grimaced as Eliana squealed out her joy, a little too loud and far too close to his ear, "I'm going to look like a right ass when I admit I don't remember your names."

They laughed and Tal peeked over his shoulder to check on Revas only to see the bastard had disappeared.

* * *

Solas' heart kept hammering on his breastbone and his skin was clammy with a cold sweat as he marched down the stairs and out the front gates of Haven. He would tell the Seeker Tal was occupied and she'd have to bring him to the debriefing herself because the "Herald" wasn't listening to him.

And then he'd ask _who_ the Dalish were. Which clan? Was it Tal's, or…? The idea that it wasn't Tal's had him dizzy with horror and… _excitement._ He tried to quash it like the dangerous thing it was, that addictive longing that kept him awake at all hours and tempted him every night in the Fade—that threat to his greater goals.

He tried to rationalize it away why that clan _had_ to be Tal's or even some visiting clan. The way Tal had rushed to the infant suggested a prior relationship with this group. It _had_ to be his clan, then, and not Rosa's. She was a Dreamer, true, and could share her experiences with him via dreams, but it seemed incongruous for Tal to run up to a child that young and snatch her from her caretakers with such ease when she was from another clan. So that meant this was clan Manaria, Tal's clan, not—

And then, all his attempts at denial came crashing down as he heard his name—his _real name_ —spoken by a familiar female voice. "Solas?"

He stopped, almost skidding on the dirt and gravel underfoot, and jerked his head left toward the stables. He saw three Dalish, two men and one woman. His eyes skipped over the men, dismissing them almost at once, and focused on the woman. She wore hunter armor, which seemed odd, and her face was tired and paler than he remembered, but she was still Rosa. Brown hair, a touch unruly, with Dirthamen's vallaslin in cream against her bronzed skin. And something in her countenance had always reminded him of Mythal, and her violet eyes had hinted at the truth of just _why_ that should be. Despite a year's passage she was still very much the woman he had fallen in love with in the Circle tower and then had forced himself to leave in the Free Marches.

He swallowed, feeling abruptly ill. The rest of the world faded until it was just himself and Rosa as she stopped a few paces short of him. Her expression was stiff and cold.

"Rosa," he said, breathing her name.

"Revas," she said, using his alias name now with a nod. "I'm glad to see you're well. I thought maybe you were dead." She shrugged, as though she didn't care one way or another.

Solas cringed before he could stop himself as the words hit him like bricks. "I…I'm sorry."

"Rosa?" one of the Dalish, an old rogue, asked at her side, lifting both eyebrows in silent question.

"Go on," she said, jerking her chin toward Haven. "Give me a minute to talk to an old _friend."_

Solas swallowed. It was a miracle he didn't vomit the way his stomach fluttered as that mix of horror and excitement churned inside him. "Yes," he said, his voice small and faraway. "It's good to see you again."

The two men glanced at one another speculatively and then deferred to Rosa's apparent authority as First. They started for the gates, but the younger of the two glanced back with a worried expression. How much did they know? What had Rosa told them? He wanted to groan but bit it back. His face felt hot and his hands had gone ice cold.

"Rosa," he said, breaking the silence first, licking his lips nervously. "I'm sorry that I have not contacted you. I had…other responsibilities. It was too dangerous." He motioned at the mountains, trying to indicate the Conclave and its explosion, the breach. "I feared something like this would happen and had you known of it, I knew you would place yourself in danger. I could not allow that."

She stared at him, anger darkening her violet eyes. Her lips twisted down. Her nostrils flared. Solas could see the words broiling inside, ready to explode out. But nothing happened. Her ears were red and her hands clenched into fists, but she remained silent. Finally, she lifted her chin, jutting it out. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

The non-sequitor made Solas blink, stunned anew. He stared at her a moment, brow furrowed. Then he squared his shoulders and nodded. "Of course."

Rosa pivoted and started walking for Haven's gate. Solas followed her, stiff-legged and with his spine rigid. What was she doing?

She led him around the corner inside the gates to the right, passing the trader stall and heading for the aravel. Solas saw the two hunters had rejoined the group and now stood around the fire and the aravel, chatting with Tal, who still held the infant. Now he supported her by the upper body, letting the tiny child bounce on legs that were as yet unsteady. The child drew most of the elves' attention, making them smile and laugh at her antics. But then Tal turned his head and saw them coming and all at once his face broke out in what Varric would have called a shit-eating grin.

He hopped up, holding the baby as Rosa approached. Solas slowed, wary as dread crawled up his throat, clutching at it. This was Rosa's clan, he knew that now. But Tal's familiarity with a child outside his clan…

He felt the blood draining from his face and froze a few paces back, unable to make himself move closer as shock gripped him. _No…it cannot be…_

His mind raced as he watched Tal hand the baby over to Rosa and she took the infant with a familiarity and confidence surely borne of experience. Solas' gaze swept over her anew and he saw her form had thickened slightly. Her waist was still tiny but her breasts were pronounced even in armor and…was that a little paunch in her belly? He _knew_ it had been flat as a board in the Hasmal Circle. The memory taunted him nightly of his hands on her every contour.

The child was _hers._ Of that there could be no doubt.

How old was it— _she?_ He cursed his own lack of knowledge about infants. He'd never dealt with infants before, even though Mythal had them about her constantly. He taught older children that could speak and summon magic. Infants held no interest for him because they lacked magic and speech and all the other interesting things that made physical beings worthwhile. But _this_ one, this one was…

Rosa turned with the baby on her hip, swaying slightly in a motion he had seen Mythal do hundreds of times while she carried an infant. He stared at the babe, still frantically trying to guess her age, her date of conception. But he knew so little he could not be sure of anything.

Yet the child's eyes were his own in color. Her lips had a shape that might have been his own as well, and her hair had flecks of red and the brown was a shade paler than Rosa's. She could be…but _how?_ Rosa was Dalish, they did not conceive children carelessly and she had never turned him away, never cautioned him against…

"Revas," Rosa said then, her voice strained. "This is Eliana, my daughter."

The meaning of the name hit him like a slap. _Our end._

"She's _your_ daughter," Tal put in abruptly, still grinning in that way Solas knew meant he was greatly enjoying this, particularly Solas' own reaction. The clan behind them frowned, their gazes raking Solas with disapproval.

"No," Rosa snapped, shooting a glare at her brother. "Her father was my bond partner, Mahanon." Her violet eyes were dark, grave. An older woman behind Rosa lowered her eyes, her face wracked with grief, and Solas knew then that Mahanon must be one of the three other Dalish who died in the Conclave. His chest constricted with sympathy—and shame.

"But she'll need a teacher," Rosa said, her voice still hard and her gaze fierce with a tightly controlled anger. "She's a Dreamer," she added, quieter now. "Like me."

 _Like you,_ her eyes said.

Though he was still dizzy with the revelation, cold with the horror and somehow also hot with shame, Solas nodded. A stilted answer came to his lips. "I would be happy to help in any way I can."

Rosa's jaw clenched but she nodded. "Good." She looked over at Tal then and said, "Maybe you can start by watching her while Tal and I go sit with the _shems_ for a debriefing."

"What?" Tal blurted and then groaned. "Seriously? Now? No. Fuck the _shems."_

"Now," Rosa chastened him. Turning back to Solas she narrowed her eyes. "Can I trust you to hold her?"

"I would never harm her," Solas answered immediately, flushing hot at her doubt. He would never harm a child! Least of all _his_ child!

Her expression was doubtful. She turned and walked back to the fire, extending the baby out to one of the other women. "Watch her and have _Revas_ sit a while. He needs to get to know her."

The woman nodded, though her face showed uncertainty. The elves threw Solas uneasy glances as Rosa went to Tal and snagged his arm, dragging the unwilling Herald with her toward the Chantry. Leaving Solas alone with the elves and… _his daughter…_

* * *

**Next Chapter**

"How…" he started to say and then flushed red as Rosa couldn't help but laugh dryly.

"You know how."

"No," he told her, brows knitting and voice sharpening with irritation. "The Dalish do not idly make children. I understand your decision, but I do not understand…" He broke off, trying again and still blushing bright red. "You did not wear a charm?"

* * *

This was so delicious to write back when I wrote this! It's great to share it now! While there will be familiar threads in this story from Rosa Stands Tall, like Rogathe which you've all met before, I am going to take markedly different paths with them as much as I can to surprise everyone.


	3. Surprise Fatherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas has many questions...

Rosa wasn't surprised at all when she found herself in a dream with Solas that night after introducing him to Eliana. The Fade had been shaped into the likeness of Haven, complete with bustling _shemlen_ all about. Clan Lavellan's aravel was in place as well, though none of the Dalish were with her. Eliana was here, her dream self incomplete and faceless. It was a touch creepy, but Rosa's mother told her it was normal—apparently Rosa had done the same thing. The baby couldn't comprehend her own face yet as she was not old enough to understand her reflection. So she understood her self as being just disembodied hands, arms, feet, and legs. The rest of her was just a tannish blob of color.

It was an improvement over the shadow Rosa had seen when the baby was unborn and newborn.

She reached for Eliana out of habit and instinct, picking up her child and standing. Solas was nearby, his presence unmistakable in the Fade. He cast a weighty shadow in her mind, mightier than even her father's. She'd glimpsed that strength in the Hasmal Circle, but now it was solid. Solas was stronger now.

Eliana babbled and cooed in her arms, hands flapping and feet kicking. Rosa almost didn't hear Solas speak over it. Almost.

"Rosa."

She turned round to see him on the path leading down to the trebuchet, a look of anguish twisting his features. "I thought we might talk," he said. "I suspect we both have questions."

Anger scorched Rosa from within, but she swallowed it back. She'd always sensed Solas was going to abandon her. Yet, rather than hold back, she fell for him even harder. That wasn't his fault. It was hers. Eliana was also _her_ fault as much as his—more so, actually, because she'd never warned him away and then chose to carry the child. She could see from his expression now how stunned and emotional he was at discovering the baby. Rosa's own father must have worn a similar look when he faced Halesta and realized that he left behind far more than a lover with clan Naseral.

"All right," Rosa said, nodding to him. Her voice sounded hard, grating. She grimaced and made an effort for something brighter, even if it was false as she hiked Eliana higher on her hip—a habit rather than by necessity as here in the Fade the baby had far less weight. "I suppose I'll answer the most obvious question I imagine you have."

She sighed and, looking to the baby, willed Eliana's Fade self to be whole, reflecting the way her daughter appeared in reality. Now the pudgy little hands and feet were connected to an actual child with a face. Eliana squealed and patted at Rosa's surcoat. "Mamamamamama!"

"It was about a month after you'd left that I realized I was pregnant," Rosa explained, shrugging with the shoulder Eliana wasn't against. "I worried that no other clan would take me in carrying a bastard child that might not even be an elf for all they knew." Her voice was tight, strangled. "I was going to…to end the pregnancy, but Tal talked me out of it." She lifted her eyes and stared at Solas. "Do you remember when you asked me how I could revere the Creators even knowing they were false gods?"

Solas swallowed, throat bobbing. "Yes."

"I told you they were ideals to me. And that was why I chose Dirthamen, because he stands for devotion to family. Well, I realized that if I couldn't accept my own child, planned or not, then I was no disciple of Dirthamen. I wasn't loyal to my family all the time, just when it was convenient." The admiration she saw in Solas' eyes made her look away, hating herself for enjoying his reaction and the vindication that it gave her. She hadn't made her choice because of him; it was entirely for herself. She stayed true to her own ideals and accepted the new life she'd accidentally created.

She shifted, cuddling Eliana close, nuzzling her. The baby cooed and gripped her cheeks in her pudgy hands.

"I'm sorry," Solas said, choking. "If I had known—"

"Don't even say it," Rosa snapped, glaring. Eliana grabbed at her ear, heedless of her mother's distress. "I didn't carry her in in the hope I'd lure you back to me. I moved on, Solas. I took a bond partner who loved me and loved Elia like she was his blood. Elia is _his_ daughter."

Now Solas frowned and drew a step closer. The Fade carried a heavy weight with it, pressing in around the edges of the dream. Rosa steeled her spine, refusing to back down despite the sudden cold fear instinct that rose inside her. She'd sensed Solas was powerful before, like her father, but in the Hasmal Circle he was so diminished and weak…

"No," Solas said, clipped and sharp with his own anger. "She is clearly _my_ child as much as she is yours. I did not know of her previously, but had I known I would have returned to you at once. I did not leave you by choice, Rosa." He blinked, deflating slightly as he looked away and closed his eyes. "As I said when we first met again, I had other responsibilities. I did not wish to place you at risk." He sighed and lifted his blue eyes back to her, though his gaze flicked repeatedly to Elia. "I take my responsibilities seriously, Rosa. When the time was right, I would have contacted you again."

His earnestness suggested he spoke true and her truthsaying talent had not revealed a lie, but Rosa kept her emotions in check. Eliana squirmed and struggled, kicking and fussing. Rosa clucked her tongue at the baby and then walked back to the furs around the hearth and aravel. She set Eliana down there on her tummy and stood over her daughter watchfully. Solas followed after her, cautious.

"I felt magic within her when I held her today," he murmured softly. "How old is she?"

"About five months old," Rosa replied. "She was born in late summer." She shot him a resentful look. "In case you had any doubts, let me reassure you that's nine months after you left me in the Free Marches."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, as if the comment smarted. Good, she'd intended it to, although he had not shown any doubt that Eliana was his. Rather the opposite, to her surprise. Rosa's own father had accepted Halesta's insistence that he take on a role as mentor and teacher and never reveal that he was actually her blood. Solas, however, seemed unlikely to accept such a bargain. When she'd suggested Mahanon was Eliana's father by title and right, he'd balked. It wasn't what she'd expected, but perhaps she should have. His name, _Solas,_ meant Pride. Pride does not cast away perfectly good pieces of itself.

"How…" he started to say and then flushed red as Rosa couldn't help but laugh dryly.

"You know how."

"No," he told her, brows knitting and voice sharpening with irritation. "The Dalish do not idly make children. I understand your decision, but I do not understand…" He broke off, trying again and still blushing bright red. "You did not wear a charm?"

"The Templars took it when they took my armor," Rosa snarled, angry at the memory of the Circle rather than with Solas. She couldn't stop a little bitterness though as she added, "What about you? Was it only women's duty in Elvhenan to avoid making unplanned children?"

"No," he rejoined, equally annoyed. "My charm did not survive the ages and turned to dust long before I woke from uthenera. I did not see any point to making a new one as I did not anticipate requiring it."

She snorted. "Really? Not even when you and me were fucking like bunnies?"

He looked away, jaw clenching. Finally he sighed, shoulders drooping. "I apologize. I did not consider that you did not have a charm either. In hindsight, it should have been obvious." He was red all the way to his ears. "However, I expected you would caution me of the risk and you did not."

"You're right," Rosa agreed, feeling some of her tension return. It was true. She'd known she was vulnerable and every time they lay together they could be making a child. Yet she hadn't once mentioned it. Shame gnawed at her stomach. Had she on some level _wanted_ to make a child? Was she trying to tie him to her the way her mother had with her father? She wasn't sure, so she repeated what she had always told herself. "I was reckless and I didn't think." She felt her own cheeks grow hot as she added, "Well, I did think, but it was about how great sex was with you."

His lips twisted, trying to smile but also to frown. He didn't seem to know how to react to that, other than to avoid direct eye contact. He stared down at Eliana as she tried to crawl clumsily toward the hearth. "She is a lovely child," he finally said.

"People keep telling me that," Rosa said, chuckling. "But she came out a wrinkled mess and I was stunned to see she had hair. I thought she'd be as bald as you."

Solas laughed quickly, then seemed to forcibly recompose himself. Still watching Eliana, he said, "I was not always thus. I once had more hair than you and Eliana combined. Uthenera seems to have permanently affected me."

Rosa watched Solas staring at Eliana, seemingly fascinated. Despite herself—all the long months grieving his absence and enduring the physical suffering of carrying Eliana while feeling betrayed and abandoned—the sight warmed her. She'd imagined an aloof reunion and a dispassionate encounter with Eliana. Instead she found a man who was more curious than anything else once he got over his initial shock. And, underneath it, she could still feel the strong attraction, the lure of passion.

She'd bonded with Mahanon to give Eliana a father within the clan, but she'd never loved him as raw and intensely as she had Solas. The connection with Solas was instant and powerful, like magic. This reconnection, even a hint of it, stung her with guilt and grief. Mahanon deserved more, deserved better. Her body and maternal instincts might both immediately leap to the idea of Solas as a replacement, but her heart and her mind knew better.

She cleared her throat and said, "Thank you for sitting with her today. I suspect my clan was not especially friendly." She'd been somewhat surprised when she returned from the meeting with the humans with Tal at her side to find Solas still with the elves and Eliana. The air had a frigidness that had nothing to do with the cold Frostbacks, but Rosa was still pleased to see Solas hadn't run.

He glanced at her and dipped his head. "Of course. It was my pleasure." He smiled and it wasn't wholly feigned. "As for your clan, you need not apologize. I expected nothing better and I did not deserve a warm welcome. It was clear to me they knew I was Eliana's…father." He grimaced at the word, clearly still getting used to it.

"Tal made it clear when he blurted it," Rosa muttered, shaking her head. "He was waiting for that." She shrugged. "But she _does_ resemble you. I feared the _shemlen_ running this 'Inquisition' would know the moment they laid eyes on her."

"They will know soon enough," Solas murmured and then grimaced again. "This…complicates matters." He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other and then lifted his gaze from Eliana to Rosa. "Have you noticed more demons taking an interest in you or Eliana?"

Rosa shrugged. "Elia's a Dreamer, so yes. I've seen plenty of demons since she was born." She scowled, letting a little bitterness show. "And even more before she was born." Narrowing her eyes, she summoned up her truthsaying talent. "Why do you ask?"

Solas nodded slightly at her words and then clenched his jaw tightly. "There is much I must discuss with you, but I need some time to think."

Rosa stiffened, sensing something enormous and terrible underlying his words. Considering the breach and the Conclave…she restrained a shudder. "What's going on here, Solas? You're involved somehow with this mess, aren't you?" She knelt and scooped up Eliana, holding her protectively. "Is Elia in danger?"

"Possibly," Solas admitted, frowning. His blue eyes were dark and grave as they darted over mother and child. "Probably," he amended. "By virtue of the fact she shares my blood." His posture eased slightly. "I am relieved to have found her this early when I may protect you both."

Pride made Rosa bristle, ready to snap at Solas that she had protected Eliana just fine without him this whole time. Yet she bit her tongue, knowing the words wouldn't help either of them—and most important of all, it wouldn't help Eliana. Rather than pick a fight with him, Rosa nodded and forced herself to speak her own secret knowledge. "There's some things I should tell you, too."

He smiled, tightly. "Then we are agreed. When we are ready we will meet and discuss these concerns." He motioned to Eliana. "For her benefit…we both owe one another the truth." He was pale as snow now and his hands shook slightly.

Rosa didn't comment on the tiny tremor, though she noticed it. "When we're ready."

* * *

Solas was _not_ ready for this. Just that morning the world had been a known quantity for him. His Anchor was, unexpectedly, bestowed upon and carried by a young man who should not have been able to withstand it but miraculously had. Solas was obliged to watch over and guide young Tal, not only because he bore the Anchor, but because he was Felassan's only son. His task was relatively simple: work with Tal to stop Corypheus and reclaim his orb. Then his plans would commence anew.

He had to work out some minor details regarding how to safeguard Tal during the endgame, but otherwise everything was straightforward.

And then it had all come crashing down when he found Rosa waiting for him at Haven with a child— _his_ child—at her hip. Now the weight of his past and present obligations clashed with a new reality. He hadn't had family since his parents died long, long ago. It had been thousands of years since he had the chance to see his features in anything but his reflection. Now an infant girl grinned toothlessly at him when he held her while Rosa was away and she had his eye color and lip shape, his ears, and some other ephemeral _something_ that called to him, blood to blood. For all he wished he could deny it, the baby was _his._

With all the physical characteristics she inherited, Solas couldn't help wondering what else she might carry. It was highly unlikely she would match him in power someday as even two Evanuris almost never produced other Evanuris. Yet she would be an easy mark for his enemies, many of which sought his blood to open the Black Mirror. She was already a Dreamer, likely more powerful than her mother. Would she have his natural affinity for spirits? And what of any talents Rosa might carry from her ancestors? Fen'Harel had never had children before, so no one knew whether his talents were inheritable like Dirthamen and Falon'Din's, or if they were more acquired like June's.

And, possibly the most dangerous question of all, might she and Rosa eventually aid him in taking down the Veil and reshaping the world? It was a shameful question, a hope he did not deserve, but Eliana was a new and unknown element to his plans. He could not endanger her or Rosa, but would three Dreamers (or four if he factored in his agent Zevanni) be enough to accomplish his task safely? All would be taxed by the effort but all might also be assured survival.

It just…didn't seem real most of the time.

After he left the dream he crafted for Rosa and Eliana, Solas sought out the only one he knew he could trust with this new revelation: Wisdom. He found her library, shaped to appear much like Elvhenan's great Vir Dirthara. Rows upon rows of scrolls and books stood, stretching to the horizon. The floor glowed a luxurious gold, rippling like water as he walked over it toward the table where she sat.

"Solas," she greeted him without turning to look at him. A book lay open in front of her. She was an elven woman now, translucent and green. Her shape was vague below the neck, but suggested a slim form with short hair. "A pleasure to see you, _falon."_

"A pleasure indeed," he returned her greeting, smiling and relaxing as much as he could considering the circumstances. He moved around the long table she sat at, casually brushing at the open books. "Have you learned anything that intrigued you lately?" he asked conversationally.

She lifted her head and smiled warmly at him. "A human boy teased the other children of his village and thought little of the pain he caused. I came across him when he dreamt and I showed him the dreams of his victims that he might live a time in their minds and experience their lives. When he saw himself through their eyes he realized he was not the strong or brave boy he thought, but a cruel tyrant. I hope that when he woke he will have the wisdom to recognize that harming others does not elevate him."

Solas smiled at her and chuckled softly. "A beautiful and generous gift." Wisdom was as much compassion as she was knowledge. She took little interest in shaping world history, though she did watch current events for knowledge. She enjoyed Solas' company for his great intelligence and tidbits of information while he relished her insight. There were times she read him better than he did himself. Her guidance had given him the patience he needed to control his hotheadedness in his youth.

"You do not feel he deserved it," she said, reading him blankly. There was no judgment in her tone.

"My opinion on the matter is not important," he said mildly. "And I know it to be biased. I have no true way of knowing that the boy's behavior cannot be changed by your influence, but I have never been fond of bullies and do not feel it worth my time or effort to engage with them." He'd never had much compassion for mindless brutes and wasn't about to deny it was unfair. It was a shortcoming of his own opinions and had no place in this exchange. What he felt about it—that Wisdom's actions were wasted on this bully boy—did not change that he admired her attempt.

Wisdom nodded her understanding and then shut the tome on the table. She sat back in her chair, regarding him anew. "You are troubled, _falon."_

"I am, yes," Solas admitted freely. "I have great need of wisdom at present."

"Well, you have found it. How can I help you?" The golden glow of her eyes intensified as she watched him. Solas knew she'd likely already read everything from him, but she understood the mortal need to explain and so indulged him.

Solas, however, was also accustomed to the ways of spirits and so skipped over much of his story, knowing Wisdom would already know it. "I have discovered I am…" He paused, wrestling internally with the word as a new part of his identity. "…a father. I have a daughter." He heard the hollowness of shock in his own voice and had to restrain a frown.

"It is most unexpected," Wisdom said coolly. "The Dalish do not suffer unwanted children. Resources are too scarce to do otherwise."

Now Solas did frown, irritated at the reminder of Dalish culture. While he approved of limiting births he knew that culture extended onto those already born. Mages were funneled into leadership positions, simply by virtue of being mages, for example. Those who did not suit the clan's preset roles would be outcast eventually. Tal himself was discarded by his clan simply on the cruel whims of his Keeper. Each clan was, effectively, a little dictatorship masquerading as an extended family. He _hated_ forcing any individual into a role they did not choose.

"Perhaps it is most fortuitous as well," Wisdom went on thoughtfully. "Your lover and her brother may both prove valuable allies, although their father's death would likely sour such a relationship."

Solas bristled despite himself and corrected Wisdom without thinking. "Rosa and I are no longer lovers."

Wisdom nodded sagely. "No, not at present. But within your mind she is still your heart. I have not met her to know what emotions may yet linger in her heart for you. It is wise to recognize that she may not share such sentiments and may not return your emotion. However, she is also tied irrevocably to you through the child."

"I have no wish to entrap her," Solas said. "But I am unsure how to proceed." He shouldn't pursue her romantically for so many reasons. She was newly widowed, losing her partner in the explosion at the Conclave, which _he_ was partly responsible for. Her father was dead at his hands. He had left her without a word for a year, fearing the temptation that she presented that could sway him from his task. Her brother bore his Anchor, which would kill him eventually, or at least take his arm. And she was the daughter of his closest friend. Though Felassan was dead, Solas doubted the other man would have appreciated him bedding his daughter in life. Considering the circumstances of his death—betraying Solas to try and save this modern world—it seemed like an insult to his friend's memory that he'd been involved with Rosa at all.

Yet, at the same time, he could hardly feign disinterest in Rosa and Eliana now. Even if Rosa wished nothing to do with him, Eliana was too young to make such a choice. Solas refused to abandon her now that he knew she existed. Until she made the conscious choice in full understanding, he would not passively allow Rosa or any other to deny him access to his child.

"There is always the truth," Wisdom suggested.

Solas shook his head. "I cannot risk exposure so soon. It would endanger all of my plans. And there is the matter of the child. She is young and will need my guidance and protection. Should I misstep and Rosa becomes my enemy I may be forced to flee. I would lose any chance of protecting Eliana as she grows."

"Perhaps not all at once but gradually," Wisdom added and then she rose out of her chair and floated gracefully over the gleaming floor toward him. A sympathetic expression softened her features into a look that was almost maternal as she reached out and touched his shoulder. She was not a physical being, but her touch registered on Solas' shoulder as solid and real. "I know you feel as though you must perish as penance for the suffering the People endured. I know you are ashamed of the possibility that your lover and now your daughter may be the keys to ensuring you survive what is to come."

Solas stiffened despite himself, but did not interrupt Wisdom or push her away. She was, after all, simply repeating his own darkest thoughts. He had come to her knowing she would do just this. He _needed_ to hear this.

Wisdom's fingers squeezed at his shoulder. "It is natural to fear death, particularly for one who was immortal and has never known the threat of age and disease. It is natural to long for companionship. There is wisdom in exploring all possibilities and you cannot do so without including these potential allies in a frank and open discussion."

Solas shook his head again, protesting. "There is too much at stake."

"You know the risk can be mitigated, _falon,"_ she said, her brow furrowing and her tone becoming one of light chastisement. "And there is risk with leaving your lover uninformed. The child will be vulnerable on multiple fronts."

Closing his eyes and swallowing, finding his throat thick with emotion, Solas said, "I cannot risk sacrificing the People for the sake of myself. Yes, the risk can be mitigated, but it cannot be eliminated. I owe the People a future in a new world and I am the only one who can bring it about."

Wisdom smiled tenderly. "You know you are not the villain the Dalish believe and you are prepared to die so that the People may live. But perhaps you need not be a martyr. Perhaps the choice is not yours to make, but theirs. Love them, _teach_ them, _falon._ And when you feel they are ready and the time is right, let them decide."

Just the idea of doing what Wisdom suggested set Solas' heart hammering. "Regardless of their decision," he said, swallowing again. "I lose. Should Rosa reject me and see me as an enemy, a nemesis she must kill to avenge her father, I lose both ally and child. Should Rosa accept me and choose to fight at my side…" Pain lanced across his chest. "She will likely perish with me at the end."

"The choice is a bittersweet one," Wisdom agreed. "But there is hope, is there not? You do not know with certainty that you alone will die in the undertaking. With another, and perhaps the child too, if she is old enough, all may survive."

"Better that they should live on," Solas insisted, his voice strangled. "It is what they deserve."

Wisdom smirked. "I have never known the Dread Wolf to deny another the free will and knowledge they need to make a decision for themselves. Was that not the goal behind your rebellion? To free the People from the tyranny of belief in false gods? In slavery? In the class system that marked so many as worthless when they were far from it? Before you were rebel, trickster, or wolf, you were a teacher and a scholar and a compassionate heart."

Solas let out a small breath. "You are correct, as always, my friend." He ducked his head to her in a respectful bow. "I thank you, for your guidance. In time…I will use it."

* * *

Tal's hands were bound at the wrist. Hemp ropes chafed at his ankles, too. He sat on his knees, cringing into himself in anticipation of the worst. The cackling laughter of children and teens echoed in his ears. Dappled sunlight danced on him through broadleaf trees and a bed of pine needles was beneath him, fragrant and pleasant.

Too bad everything else was shitty. Literally.

The first clod of halla dung thwacked against him. Tal winced, shutting his eyes. He could burn through the ropes in an instant if he wanted, but he knew that would make it worse. These were Firsts all around him. They all knew more than he, probably, being cherished wards of their Keepers. Tal knew a few spells and fire came very naturally to him, but overall these Firsts could easily whoop his ass in magic if he tried it. He'd learned that bullies tended to get bored if he just endured it.

"You bastard," a female voice snarled over him.

Tal lifted his head, recognizing it. He gawped as pain formed a lump in his throat. "Nola?"

His Keeper stood over him, stunning in her armor. She tossed a lump of halla dung in one palm, getting the heft of it. "You deserve this," she told him and then flung it straight for his face.

Tal lowered his head, cowering. "Nola, I'm sorry. I—"

Dung smacked into his jaw, bits of it catching on his lips. He gagged and spat, then glared in the direction that particular clod of shit had come from—only to stammer stupidly as he saw Cassandra Pentaghast. She gleamed like Nola in her own Inquisition armor, the breastplate glittering in the sunshine through the trees.

"Seeker?" he asked her, breathless. "The fuck…?"

Cassandra sneered at him and knelt to scoop more halla shit from the burlap sack at her feet. "Abomination!" she snarled as she hurled more dung at him.

"Okay," Tal said, cringing. "I _might_ deserve that title, but with that much venom? I mean, sure, I'm possessed, but it's not my fault—I don't think—and I've been helping people with the mark and all so maybe lay off a little?"

Then, behind him, Tal heard Varric call out, "Drunkard!" More halla dung hit him. From his other side he heard Revas chuckle cruelly and then felt shit smack into him from that direction, too.

Revas pelting him with dung was more than Tal could take sitting down, though. He glowered at the older elf, spitting. "You fucker. Where do you get off thinking you can throw shit at me after what you did? How did it feel to see my sister again, _flat-ear?"_

Revas let out another cold laugh. "Were you foolish enough to believe that I cared for you or your sister? You were a means to an end. I do not care about either of you."

Tal felt his cheeks grow hot. Something inside him expanded, pressing out on his ribs painfully. He breathed, hard and fast, trying to control the sudden rage that nearly overcame him. But it was impossible to deny. He wanted to slaughter Revas for the insult.

He tried to call mana, to summon fire, but it was sluggish and leaden. He fought harder, reaching deeper as Revas leered down at him…

And then someone threw water in his face.

Cursing and spluttering, Tal jerked awake and scrabbled off the cot. "Sylaise's milky tits!" He wiped at his face, blinking furiously. The floor was cold under his hands and feet as his wits slowly returned to him. He was dreaming. The halla dung pelting him must have been someone trying to shake him awake. The water was what they resorted to when he wouldn't wake.

Twisting his head, Tal sighed as he saw Rosa standing nearby, holding a small cup in one hand. Water droplets still coated it. Her expression was one of both disappointment and maternal worry. She was bulky with a sling and a fur blanket over her shoulders. "You drank yourself into a stupor," she said. "Didn't you?"

Tal scrubbed at his face and winced as pain pounded behind his eyes and through his temples. "No," he lied.

She snorted. "Come off it. You know better than to lie to me."

She knelt and grabbed his bicep, grunting as she hauled him upright. Tal clung to her as the room spun. His stomach lurched and he groaned. Rosa deposited him on his messy, unmade cot and hurried to the foyer. Tal heard something clinking and a moment later she appeared with a tray of food. The sight of it made Tal's gut twist all over again. He lifted a hand, trying to ward it away. "Please, _asamalin,_ if I see that or smell it I'm going to hurl."

She sighed and moved the tray from the bed across the room, setting it on the dresser beside the washbasin. Grabbing the washbasin, Rosa carried it over to him. "Here. Wash your face and have a sip. Maybe not in that order."

His hands were a tad shaky as he accepted the bowl from her and lifted it to his lips for a cautious sip. It was surprisingly delicious. He took a second and third swallow before a dangerous gurgle from his stomach made him stop. Rosa held the bowl for him as he splashed some water over his face and scrubbed fiercely. His mouth tasted awful so he also scrubbed at his teeth and tongue with a finger.

"Your advisors want to meet in about two hours," Rosa said.

Tal groaned. "Seriously? We just talked yesterday. It's all the same. Cullen tells me to go to the Tenplars. I tell him the Templars can suck my cock. Leliana wants me to go to the mages. I tell her sure, whatever, sign me up. I'm a mage. I like mages. All the while Josephine just stares at me like I'm some text in a foreign language she doesn't know how to read yet and is trying to learn."

"They're called _advisors_ for a reason," Rosa told him.

"Yeah? Well, I am _not_ a leader." He waved the bowl away and, as she turned to walk back to the dresser and set it down again, Tal added, "And _you_ are not my maidservant. Fuck that shit. You should be sleeping in this feather bed, not me." He lifted his left palm. "You should have this damn mark, not me."

Rosa turned round to face him, leaning on the dresser, a slight frown tugging at her lips. "My place is with my clan. So I sleep in the aravel. And the mark is yours, whether you or anyone else likes it. But…" She stabbed a finger at him. "You _can_ be a leader. So don't discount yourself. You're already doing it based on what you just told me about the advisors. You've already made up your mind."

"Yeah," Tal growled. "And I've done it before we even meet anyone. That's a shitty thing to do. I might be a dumbass but even I know you need to be less biased than that."

"It's the _shemlen_ who are biased,"Rosa muttered. "The answer here seems obvious to me and to you. That's not a fault of your character, that's you being _smart._ You know same as me that magic made the breach. Magic is needed to stop it, too. The Templars suppress magic, but they're not going to be much help stopping the breach."

Tal pinched the bridge of his nose and then pressed on his eyes. Hissing with the pain still pounding in his head, he said, "Let's not talk about the Creators-damned breach." Despite the pain, he forced himself to open his eyes and look at her, curiosity letting him overcome the agony of his hangover. "How did it go with Revas?"

Rosa's expression hardened and she looked away. One hand idly patted the lump of her sling where Eliana must be dozing or nursing since Tal couldn't currently see her fuzzy haired head poking out like a chick from the nest. "It went well enough, all things considered."

"Did you beat his ass?" Tal asked, grinning. "Cuz he totally deserves it. I hope you didn't. I want to be there if you do."

Rosa smirked at him. "Revas and I are settling things amicably for Elia's sake." The smile on her lips became less wry amusement and something softer as she added, "He seems surprisingly invested in her."

"Bout time," Tal grumbled. "If he'd said something about not knowing who her father was I was going to have to cut off his balls right there in front of your clan."

Rosa laughed once before cutting herself off and sobering. "Revas seemed to know she was his the moment he saw her, so clearly that wasn't necessary." She sighed then and her features warped with concern. "Revas and I aren't an important topic right now, _da'isamalin._ Why are you drinking like this? It's not healthy. I'm worried about you. Your advisors are worried about you."

Tal shrugged. "You'd drink too if you were their Herald."

Eliana cooed from inside her sling and Rosa shifted, craning her neck to look into the fabric pouch. She grinned tenderly down at the baby, helping adjust her until her little head could poke out. The baby blinked, looking around. When her eyes found Tal she squealed and gave her toothless grin. She babbled, spitting and trying to flap her little arms inside the sling.

"Yeah, I love you too, kiddo," Tal said, chuckling. "Great to see you." He looked to Rosa again. "She really does look a lot like him. Everyone who sees her and also knows Revas is going to guess she's his." He rubbed his palms together in malevolent glee. "I can't wait to watch him squirm when Varric and Cassandra ask about her and he has to admit he didn't know shit about her and that he was a real ass when he left you like he did."

Rosa sighed and ignored Tal's comment as she cupped Eliana's face in one hand and pulled the little girl's cheek in close for a kiss. "Sorry, sweetling," she said. _"Ba'isamalin_ can't play with you right now. He's hung-over and he has to go meet with the _shem_ advisors."

Tal groaned and flopped backwards on his cot. "Just kill me now. It'll be a mercy."

After a moment he heard Rosa's feet whisk on the floor, heading for the foyer. For one blessed moment he thought she was leaving and he could sleep, heedless that he might be missing a meeting with the Inquisition leadership. Then he heard fabric ruffle and Rosa's footsteps returned. His coat hit him and he grunted, grabbing it with one hand though he made no effort to sit up. "No. I'm not going, _mamae."_

"You are, _da'len,"_ Rosa said, playing along in a singsong voice that, right now, hurt his skull. "Now put on your coat. Cold fresh air is the best thing for you right now."

"Wine is the best thing for me," Tal retorted, but he sat up and shrugged on his coat anyway. He knew Rosa wouldn't take no for an answer. He heaved himself off the bed and stumbled, throwing out an arm to catch himself. "Fuck. Dizzy."

Rosa sighed, disappointed. "Some day soon I'm going to have to ask you to mind your curses around Elia. I don't really want her to start off with a potty mouth first thing."

"Never knew you were a prude," Tal said and then burped only to half-gag, swallowing bile.

Rosa took his bicep and started walking with him for the door. "Let's go make our morning rounds." The door squeaked as it swung open and Tal hissed through his teeth as both the cold and the white light hit him like glass on his skin and eyes.

"Naw," he grumbled. "Changed my mind. Let's go back to bed." He pulled against Rosa but her grip was like iron. She led him on, past the other cabins and to the main thoroughfare. Tal saw the sails of the aravel sticking up over the walls and the smoke of their hearthfire climbing higher into the morning sky.

They turned toward the chantry, climbing up the steps to where Varric stood, beefy arms crossed over his chest. He grinned as he saw them both and spread his arms wide in a welcoming motion. "Violet! Great to see you again!"

"Varric Tethras," Rosa greeted him in turn with a huge smile. "Glad to see we both got out of that miserable tower in the end. I've missed your stories though. And your delightful drinking games."

The dwarf chuckled. "There's more where that came from but…" he broke off and motioned at Eliana, still visible poking her head from her sling. "Might not be a good idea with this one around." He waved at the baby. "Who might this be?"

"My daughter," Rosa said, beaming. "Eliana."

"A pleasure to meet you, little miss," Varric said, taking a step closer to chuck the baby under her chin. His gaze flicked to Tal. "You never told me you were an uncle, Stoic."

Tal could barely keep his eyes open through the pain in his head brought on by the bright morning, but he managed to shrug. If he'd had more energy he'd have admitted the truth, but it might antagonize Rosa so he decided not to. Varric was smart enough chances were high he already knew. Leliana had to know the truth and she probably debriefed Cassandra. Varric tended to whittle gossip out of everyone, or absorb it through osmosis.

Eliana squealed joyfully and tried to reach for Varric as he pulled his hand back from her. "She likes you," Rosa told him.

"She likes everyone," Tal blurted, unable to help himself.

"I'll have to write the guild," Varric said, grinning. "They make these mechanized toys that move and make sound. Drives the kids in Kirkwall crazy. Sell like hotcakes, too." He winked. "First one's on me."

"Thank you," Rosa said graciously. "That's very generous of you!"

"My pleasure!" Varric said and chuckled. "She's a cute one."

Tal zoned out, grimacing with pain as Rosa thanked him and then excused the both of them. They walked right toward the tavern. Rosa kept tugging on his bicep, straightening him out as he stumbled when the world spun crazily, colors and sounds streaking together. "Dread Wolf take this hangover," he growled.

"I doubt the old trickster would help with your headache," Rosa chided as they walked through the tavern door. A high fire roared in the fireplace, crackling and heating the room. Tal relaxed a little only to wince as the wall of sound hit him as the other patrons' voices drilled at his ears.

Rosa half-dragged him to the bar and plopped him onto a stool. "The Herald needs a glass of milk," she told the barkeep, Flissa.

"Milk?" Flissa asked and grunted. "S'pose I could manage one of those." She turned and began riffling through her glasses. The sound of the glass clinking together made Tal grind his teeth with pain.

"I'm not hungry or thirsty," he grumbled.

"You just woke up and you're hung-over," Rosa reminded him as she sat on the stool next to him and stroked Eliana's brown-red hair, finger-combing it. The baby grinned up at her mother adoringly. "The milk will help—if you can keep it down."

Tal sighed and tried not to vomit when Flissa set a glass of milk in front of him. Before he could say or do anything Rosa took the glass and produced a small herb pouch. A moment later she added a pinch of a yellow-green something into it and used a finger to stir it. Then she pushed it back to him over the bar and pocketed the pouch again. "Drink."

"What was that?" Tal asked her, frowning.

"A little something to help with the pain," she told him with a smirk.

"And you just carry that around now?" Tal asked, arching a brow.

Rosa scoffed. "Have you ever tried living with a cranky baby cutting her first teeth? Or before that, dealing with birth pains?"

Tal sighed and took the glass. "Fine, I get it." He took a slow, cautious sip and frowned, choking it down.

"Cute babe, miss," Flissa said. "Don't see too many wee ones round these parts."

"Thank you," Rosa said, beaming again as she returned to stroking Eliana's hair. "My clan lost people in the explosion." Her voice and features darkened with loss. "My bond partner died in the blast. I'm here with my clan to bury him."

"She's also my sister," Tal put in blearily. "And she's here to babysit me."

Flissa covered her lips with one hand, smothering a smile. "Oh! Well," she said. "Welcome to Haven then, miss…"

"Rosa Lavellan," Rosa introduced herself for what Tal realized would be only the first of many this day. He let his forehead thump on the wooden bar and groaned, praying Rosa's pain relieving herbs would work fast.

"`Twas the babe's father who died in the blast then?" Flissa questioned suddenly.

"Yes," Rosa lied. Tal withheld his disbelieving snort. Barely. He'd overheard the sounds of passion that probably made Eliana. In _his_ aravel, of all places. And it wasn't Mahanon who'd been rutting with her, though Han was a good enough man, albeit a little extra bigoted and insecure for an elf.

_Creators, I'm such an ass thinking poorly of the dead._

Flissa clicked her tongue. "Such a shame. I'm so sorry. So many lost in this tragedy. And the breach just up there in the sky, staring down at us like the eye of some huge demon."

"I still can't believe he's gone—that they're all gone. It's awful," Rosa said. "Luckily we have my brother to close it."

 _No pressure,_ Tal thought sarcastically.

A grueling half hour passed as Tal gradually drank the milk Rosa ordered for him and slowly started to feel a little relief from his pain. When Tal heard Seeker Pentaghast's authoritative voice at the entry he cursed and started to bolt for the opposite door, but Rosa caught his sleeve. He glared at his sister as Cassandra barged into the tavern, pushing aside a half-drunk man as she approached the bar wearing a scowl. "Herald," she said. "Thank the Maker. I could not find you. You weren't in your cabin."

Did Tal imagine it or did her voice carry nails in it meant to dig into his ears? He grimaced and cringed back from her, remembering his dream. "Uh…yeah…"

Cassandra's eyes slid to Rosa and she seemed to start before recomposing herself. "Ah. You are the Herald's sister. I remember you from the Hasmal Circle." She shifted from one foot to the other, a touch awkward—especially when she registered Eliana. "Rosa…Lavellan, was it?"

Leliana _had_ debriefed her, then. When Cassandra first met Rosa her name would have been Rosa Naseral as it was before she joined clan Lavellan. Tal smirked knowingly, shooting Rosa a look, wondering if she'd caught it too. If she had, Rosa made no sign of it as she nodded to the Seeker respectfully. "Yes, I remember you, Seeker Pentaghast. I'd like to thank you for not killing my brother when he was found as the sole survivor."

Cassandra frowned. "No thanks is needed," she said, but she was flushing. "But I must borrow the Herald."

"Of course," Rosa said and got off her barstool. She hooked her arm through Tal's and hauled him with her. "I'll walk him to the chantry."

Tal let out a longsuffering sigh and gave in, allowing Rosa to walk him out of the tavern with the Seeker. But Cassandra seemed uncomfortable with the arrangement. "It is not necessary for you to escort the Herald," she protested.

"I don't mind," Rosa said.

"She's here to make sure I actually go to the meeting," Tal grumbled.

"I'm afraid I must insist," Cassandra said stiffly.

Tal frowned, realizing this was not a polite _you don't have to do this_ from the Seeker but rather a frank dismissal. As though she did not trust Rosa. They stopped walking just beyond the tavern as Rosa stared at the Seeker, a small frown on her lips and furrowing her brow. The Seeker stared back at her, stoic and implacable. In the silence only the whistle of the wind through Haven could be heard—until Eliana cooed and broke the standoff.

Rosa blinked and then released Tal to hold her baby close with one arm while the other hand stroked Eliana's head. She made a soothing sound but Eliana's cooing warped into a fussing sound. Rosa clucked her tongue. "I'm sorry," she said to both the Seeker and to Tal. "I should be returning to my clan. Elia's getting restless." She turned on her heel and marched away.

Tal watched her go, baffled at this exchange. Facing the Seeker, he saw her posture had relaxed. "What was that all about?"

Cassandra shook her head. "It is nothing. Come. The others are waiting."

Heaving yet another sigh, Tal followed her toward the chantry.

* * *

**Next Chapter**

Leliana's smile was cunning now. "You knew her well, indeed."

She was trying to discomfiture him. It was working, he had to admit. He felt himself flush again and cleared his throat, averting his eyes a moment as he quickly considered his next words. Leliana had multiple goals here. _He_ must be under some suspicion again as well. Better to be truthful than evasive.

"I did, yes," he said and locked gazes with her once more. "She and I were lovers during our time together at Hasmal. We parted ways after the Circle fell. I have no wish to live with the Dalish while she intended to become First to a clan. Our paths clearly divided there, much to our mutual regret." He paused a beat and then, forcing his voice to be strong and cool, he added, "I am her child's father. I did not know it until yesterday."


	4. Rosa On Probation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an investigation, Rosa officially joins the Inquisition.

Solas was in the process of dressing—simple as it was for him with such austere, homespun garb—when heavy footsteps pounded outside his door. A second later fists echoed the footsteps, banging. "Revas!" a gruff male voice called. "Open up!"

Frowning at this intrusion, Solas secured the first of his foot wraps and then rose from his chair and walked to the door. When he opened it and found four Inquisition soldiers and one of the Conclave's few surviving Templars who'd not left Haven glowering back at him, Solas' blood flashed icy cold.

"Can I help you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and not betray the sudden panic fluttering inside.

"You're to come with us," the leader ordered and motioned at his comrades. Two of them barged their way into the cabin, pushing rudely past him. Both soldiers immediately began gathering his things, collecting scrolls and tomes. They grabbed his traveling bag and opened it, stuffing his research items carelessly into it.

Solas frowned, alarmed at this, but bit the protests that rose to his tongue. He had nothing to hide here, truly. The only items that might be incriminating were the occasional texts where he had written something cryptic in elven. But the _shemlen_ here wouldn't likely realize how odd that was—considering written elven was only preserved amongst the Dalish and a few scholars now, and most of it was beyond translation without a magical understanding behind it. Leliana was smart enough she might realize it strange, but she'd have no way of reading it. The other assemblage of texts, tomes, and scrolls he acquired would be easily and legitimately explained as attempts to understand the breach or esoteric historical details on ancient ruins and spirits. All subjects were ones he made no secret of being fascinated with. Cassandra and Leliana even approved them and worked to get him more resources.

Why were they doing this?

As the fourth Inquisition soldier came behind him to usher him outside, Solas at last hesitated. "I must don my other wrap," he said, indicating his bare calf.

The soldier glanced at the Templar and his leader outside. The man nodded while the Templar, a woman Solas had seen skulking about Haven with Cullen's troops, just shrugged. Her stance did not indicate that she expected trouble. Or, if she did, she didn't think Solas worthy of concern and that she would easily control him.

With wordless permission, Solas returned to his chair and quickly applied the other foot wrap. Then, with that done, he allowed the soldiers to march him toward the Chantry, two soldiers for him and two for his belongings. The Templar had hold of his staff and had made a cursory examination of it before looking unimpressed. His staff was handcrafted and would appear of poor quality to her. Of course the Templar and these soldiers didn't know that Solas was deadly with or without a staff.

At the chantry the soldiers led him to the room where they had held Tal while he was unconscious. The cells they passed were empty but for a waiflike scrawny human boy who watched them pass sullenly. At Solas' stare the soldier behind him said, "Boy stole from the trader."

"I see," Solas said. "Was it food that he stole?"

"Aye," the soldier replied. "But none of your business, ser."

"Perhaps I might repay the trader the item's worth to free the boy?" Solas asked. The boy's eyes widened at this but he said nothing.

The leader grunted. "Take it up with Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Nightingale." He motioned them forward to the end room where a table had been set up with three chairs. Solas walked stiffly into the space and immediately saw Leliana lurking in the left corner. _Fitting,_ he thought. She was the former left hand of the Divine.

"Have a seat, Revas," Leliana said, gesturing with an elegant wave of her gloved hand toward the chairs on his side of the roughly hewn table. It had a look like it might give him a splinter for merely staring at it. Still, Solas did not hesitate as he pulled the chair out and sat. The soldiers filed in behind him, setting down his travel pack and his bundled scrolls, books, and other items of note. They marched back out then and only the Templar and the lead guard remained as the heavy door with its metal bars along the top slammed shut.

Solas rested his hands in his lap and affected as relaxed a posture as he could. "My apologies, Lady Nightingale, but I am afraid I do not know why I am here. Have some charges been levied against me?"

Leliana's smile was cold and her blue eyes narrowed. She tucked her gloved hands behind her back and strode closer to the table out of the left corner. "No charges. I merely wished to speak with you regarding some disturbing reports I've received."

Solas arched both brows. "Disturbing reports?" Mind racing, he struggled to keep his fear from showing. Not knowing was the worst. He didn't know what she might mean. Had Rosa betrayed him as a survivor of Elvhenan? Had she suspected his orb somehow in the explosion? Had the Inquisition discovered one of his spies currently infiltrating their ranks? Had Tal just made up something in a drunken stupor to get him in trouble for fun? It could be anything.

"Yes," Leliana said and sat across from him. "Regarding the Dalish woman Rosa Lavellan."

_This_ was unexpected. Solas felt himself flushing hot and then abruptly cold as new possibilities raced to the fore. It _would_ be suspicious to Leliana and Cassandra that three mages from the same Circle were all so deeply involved with the Conclave in one way or another. Rosa was an outlier previously, but her appearance in Haven must have raised alarm bells. As much as his mind immediately jumped to the irrational idea that this was an interrogation to determine Eliana's paternity—such things were serious matters in Elvhenan, where a child's pedigree was _very_ important in the higher classes to further society's understanding of magical inheritance—he knew that wouldn't matter to these humans. It was more likely related to the Hasmal Circle's fall in rebellion and his role with Rosa in it.

"I know her, yes," Solas admitted, keeping his voice calm and even.

"We discussed your involvement with Talassan in the Hasmal Circle, prior to the Conclave," Leliana reminded him. "You were friends with the Herald then, before he was sent away to another Circle."

"I was, yes," Solas said truthfully. He had gone over this with Leliana once before, just after the explosion as the Nightingale gathered information about their sole survivor. "Our acquaintance ended when the Templars sent the Herald away." He did not specify why that happened. It wasn't uncommon for mages to be transferred from one Circle to another for whatever reason. Population control, leadership changes, personality balances. The Circle was a community and the Templars managed it as the jailors. Troublemakers were sometimes transferred, but more likely it was due to the Templars disapproving of a budding relationship, whether it was platonic or romantic. The Templars could not allow their charges to unite.

Leliana nodded. "He was transferred because the Templars discovered Rosa was his sister, is that correct?"

Solas had never supplied that information, but there was no reason to hide it now. "Yes. To ensure we were suitably pacified as prisoners," he said sardonically. "It was necessary for the Templars to separate family members."

The Templar standing in the right corner behind him, adjacent to the door, huffed in wordless protest to that description. Solas did not react. Leliana's lip twitched, however, a sure sign of her opinions. Solas had long since gathered that Leliana favored the rebellion and wished for greater freedom for mages. She would not much care then about Tal hiding his blood-kinship with Rosa. She likely approved of that defiance.

But clearly something else about the Circle bothered her, and Solas could already guess what it was. He had not revealed much about Rosa in his initial interrogations with Cassandra and Leliana, other than he knew that Tal had a sister who was not present at the Conclave. They had agreed with him and revealed that indeed, Rosa was not one of the mercenaries hired for defense at the Conclave. That was all the reassurance Solas needed at the time to be relieved that Rosa was safe and hadn't perished because of him in the explosion. That knowledge had been enough to keep him sane as he waited on Tal to awaken.

Now he thought he knew what had triggered Leliana's renewed fear and suspicion. Initially she seemed to dismiss Solas and Tal's connection as happenstance. After all, there were other mages from the Hasmal Circle at the Conclave, too. Most died in the explosion, but through "luck" Solas had not. And Tal was chosen by Andraste, for whatever reason. But he was clearly Dalish, through and through, and never expected anything like this. Everyone who knew the "Herald" for more than a few minutes came away thinking him a strange, lucky youth who was still stunned by the Conclave and clearly untested as a leader. He was still "divine" due to the Anchor, unquestionably, but had he not possessed the mark he'd be a nobody.

Yet, when Rosa showed up, even with an infant, she bore herself as a leader. When she introduced herself to the Inquisition leadership, arriving while Tal, Solas, Varric, and Cassandra were away, they must have doubtless welcomed her as needed counsel for their feckless Herald. Once Cassandra returned, however, she must have cast suspicion on Rosa. In the short time Rosa was in the Hasmal Circle she had been accused of murder through blood magic and routinely found herself in trouble. It was Cassandra who ended up vouching for her, but now the Seeker must have second-guessed her own past judgment. Had she conferred with other Templars from Hasmal and learned Rosa was implicated in the original Knight-Commander's death, too? Rosa must appear to them like a demon swooping into their Inquisition to whisper into the ear of its Herald, who would be helpless to resist as her little brother.

So, naturally, they were trying to gather more Intel on Rosa. Fast.

"Yes," Leliana agreed. "I had heard of that practice in Circle towers. I understand it's standard procedure. I do not agree with it," she admitted. Establishing trust through shared belief was a common tactic for interrogation. She would establish a repertoire with him to get the most honest answers she could for the harder questions to come.

"Yes," Solas said, playing along. "Rosa was crushed when the Templars sent the Herald away. They are very close." That was all true. "I did not know what became of him," Solas lied. "I was stunned to see he was at the Conclave and had survived the blast, of course. And very pleased, naturally."

Leliana leaned forward on the table with her elbows, then rested her gloved hands on it. "Cassandra has expressed some concerns about Rosa. There was at least one unusual death that Rosa was implicated in while she was interred within the Circle." She pressed a little closer to him. "You were there, Revas. And clearly you knew her well." The phrasing there, seemingly innocent, made Solas fight back a grimace. Leliana must suspect or know outright Eliana was his daughter.

"Tell me honestly," the spymaster went on, "do you think her intentions here with the Herald are for everyone's best interests?"

"Indubitably," Solas replied immediately. "As I said, Rosa and Tal are very close. She would never do anything to harm him. I believe she may be the only one who can ensure he reaches his true potential as a leader. His position here as Herald has been quite a shock to him, as I am sure you've noticed."

Leliana nodded. "And do you believe Rosa Lavellan responsible for the death attributed to her in the Circle?"

Solas feigned ignorance and frowned. "I'm sorry, Lady Nightingale. I'm afraid I don't know to what you're referring." He paused a moment and then affected a very somber, grave mood. "There were many deaths when the Circle fell. Not just at Hasmal, but across Thedas. Rosa and I barely escaped with our lives when Hasmal fell. There was a fire. We had been confined to quarters. We both nearly suffocated."

What _looked_ like real sympathy flashed across her features, but Solas could not be sure, of course. "My understanding is a certain Templar with whom she had an unpleasant exchange died suspiciously in his sleep."

Now Solas pretended confusion for a moment before letting feigned understanding dawn. "Ah," he said, nodding. "I recall the Templar. He was a brute. We were not saddened to hear of his death. But no, Lady Nightingale, Rosa had no part in his death. How could she? We were locked in dormitories over night. The man may have ingested too much lyrium or some other substance that killed him while he slept. Such violent men are prone to weaknesses of all types."

"Yes," Leliana agreed. "But you must admit there is motive. It would be very natural for the Knight-Captain and Knight-Commander to assume her involvement through blood magic."

"Seeker Pentaghast waived those charges," Solas said. "Rosa underwent a trial to ascertain whether she was a blood mage." He frowned. "She is most certainly not. Therefore, there is no other feasible means she could have killed the Templar in question. It is far more likely that he succumbed to his own vices, as I said."

Leliana's smile was cunning now. "You knew her well, indeed."

She was trying to discomfiture him. It was working, he had to admit. He felt himself flush again and cleared his throat, averting his eyes a moment as he quickly considered his next words. Leliana had multiple goals here. _He_ must be under some suspicion again as well. Better to be more truthful than evasive.

"I did, yes," he said and locked gazes with her once more. "She and I were lovers during our time together at Hasmal. We parted ways after the Circle fell. I had no wish to live with the Dalish while she intended to become First to a clan. Our paths clearly diverged there, much to our mutual regret." He paused a beat and then, forcing his voice to be strong and cool, he added, "I am her child's father. I did not know it until yesterday."

The nightingale's sculpted red brow arched and her eyes widened slightly. Solas knew better than to believe she reacted genuinely. She had to have known Eliana was his daughter. Perhaps her reaction was disbelief in his honesty or doubt that he had truly not known he fathered a child on Rosa. Whatever her thoughts, it mattered not. It was the shameful truth. Now, if Rosa lied about it, Leliana would probably see shame rather than duplicity. He hoped Rosa wouldn't lie, however, so their stories matched.

"I appreciate your honesty, Revas," she said, again sounding genuine. She did not, however, reveal a prior suspicion to that end. "You had no contact with her since the fall of the Hasmal Circle?"

He shook his head. "No. As I said, we parted—regretful but amicable." He clamped his mouth shut before more truth could spill out: guilt for his absence, regret that he had not been with her as she carried and birthed his daughter.

Leliana seemed to see the emotion on his face, however, and her features softened. "Thank you, Revas," she said. "I have one last question."

He waited patiently, staring at the spymaster.

"Did _you_ have any part in the death of the Templar we discussed?"

The question made him blink, surprised. He hadn't expected that. His mind churned quickly, connecting things he'd said with how Leliana's thought process must be working. She'd confirmed he was deeply involved with Rosa as her lover during their time in the Circle. He'd expressed disgust for the Templar Rosa _had_ indeed killed, though not through blood magic and not purposefully. Leliana must have decided, as perhaps Cassandra now suspected too, that _he_ was as much a suspect as Rosa. And, more importantly, Cassandra and the Circle Templars had _not_ evaluated Solas as a blood mage. Perhaps they had always had the wrong suspect.

Solas could see it in his mind's eye. The Templar who sexually harassed and threatened Rosa. And then Solas saw himself staring on in quiet rage. The Templar threatened and hurt the woman he loved. Of _course_ he would lash out.

Except he hadn't. Rosa faced the Templar in a dream, killing him, and mistakenly doing so in reality because she was a Dreamer. She did not know the depths of her own powers. But he could never tell Leliana that.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I suppose you could claim I had motive just as Rosa did, yes. I despised the man, I will admit. He was not well liked among the mages for obvious reasons."

The Templar in the corner scoffed but said nothing. Leliana shot the other woman a quick glare. The Templar's expression went impassive. Solas' staff was strapped to her back for safekeeping. The roughhewn head of it stuck up over the templar's left shoulder.

"I had nothing to do with his death," Solas repeated firmly. "As I said, such brutes commonly have vices aside from cruelty and violence. His death was a natural one and fortuitous in that Rosa and many of the mages no longer experienced daily fear of assault under his tyranny."

Leliana sat back in her chair, hands clasping in front of her. "Would you be opposed to a trial similar to the one the Circle imposed on Rosa to determine whether she was a blood mage?"

Solas lifted his hands, palms out in a display of being disarmed. "I have nothing to hide, Lady Nightingale. I know no blood magic. Its practice interferes with the lucid dreaming I practice. As such, I have avoided it at all costs." That was almost entirely true. He _did_ know a basic blood magic used for sealing and binding. But he used it _very_ sparingly, once every hundred years or so and never since he'd woken.

This tidbit made Leliana frown with the first genuine surprise Solas had seen. She opened her mouth to ask something else and then shut it again, apparently thinking better of it. She likely wished to ask if that was true but knew better than to do so with him and in so doing reveal ignorance. Instead she'd seek out Templars and mages later, trying to ascertain whether that was true or not. If it was—and it was, of course—they'd know Solas almost certainly _was_ innocent.

Ironic, then, that they had not realized there was another means beyond blood magic and both Solas and Rosa possessed it.

"You are free to go," Leliana told him then. "We will return your things later today or summon you again should we have further questions."

Solas nodded to her. "My thanks, Lady Nightingale."

As he rose from his seat and moved for the door, Leliana called out, "Revas?"

He paused and turned round to face her. A dark expression clouded her features. "Do not seek Rosa out this morning."

"Of course," he said, smiling dryly. If he did immediately go to Rosa they would see it as collusion.

He left the cell behind and walked briskly past the cells. The boy stared after him, hopeful eyes wide. Solas made a mental note to seek out Cassanra and ask if he could pay for the boy's theft charge. He looked very skinny for a _shemlen_ child. There was a good chance one of his parents had died in the Conclave and he was now bereft and starving—and it was therefore Solas' fault.

As he reached the chantry doors they groaned and sung open. He froze, watching as more soldiers marched in, fully armored. In the middle of their group was Rosa, huddling under her furs and burdened with the sling as usual. Her eyes flew to him and for an instant he saw fear, vulnerability, and longing. Then it was gone and she looked away, patting the sling where Eliana's head could be seen just poking out so her hair, eyes, and the tips of her ears were visible, proudly elven.

Or _Elvhen_ , really. She was two-thirds Elvhen, more a daughter of Elvhenan than the Dalish. Felassan's granddaughter, great-granddaughter to Dirthamen. Direct descendant of Mythal, Elgar'nan, and Falon'Din.

And, of course, Fen'Harel's _daughter._

Dropping his gaze, Solas waited for them to pass and then marched out of the chantry.

* * *

"What do you _mean_ I can't take my own sister to this ridiculous Creators-damned meeting in Val Royeaux?" Tal demanded, gesticulating wildly with his irritation. He was fidgety and cranky, itching for the moment he would be free of this stuffy meeting with these paranoid _shems._ They were supposed to be advisors, as Rosa said, but they seemed more like shepherds and babysitters. That thought only made him angry. Sure, he needed all the help he could get being this "Herald" of theirs. But who did these _shems_ think they were, anyway? They should be more concerned with protecting him from the Chantry clerics instead of trying to distance him from Rosa.

"Rosa Lavellan is under investigation for crimes she may have committed while in the Hasmal Circle," Cassandra said in a growl. "We cannot bring a dissident to see the grand clerics. It is too risky."

"A dissident?" Tal asked, flapping his hands in consternation. "What in the void are you on about? Did you drink some tainted lyrium or something?"

"Seekers do not drink lyrium," Cassandra corrected him in a snarl. "We do not require it as Templars do. And you know Rosa was a troublemaker in the Circle. You were there. Do not lie to us."

"I'm not lying," Tal told her, gritting his teeth. Glancing at the others assembled around the enormous map of southern Thedas, Tal spluttered and tried to find something coherent to say. Cullen and Josephine both appeared stern but impassive, difficult to read. Leliana was silent, standing furthest from the table. She'd arrived late to the meeting, which was unlike her. Tal was starting to realize she must have been interrogating Rosa. Panic fluttered like a hummingbird's wings inside his chest, worrying for his sister and niece. As happy and relieved as he was to see her here at Haven…if the _shems_ weren't going to trust her she should flee for her own protection.

Taking in a breath as he tried to calm the tremor in his hands, Tal started over. "Rosa has a stubborn streak. She didn't take to being in the Circle well. I handled it better. She was angry. She was a leader for her birth clan, before she was—" He caught himself just in time, before admitting she was banished. "Before she left because her clan had too many mages." He sucked in another long, calming breath. "You know we're Dalish. We didn't belong in that Circle. The Templars at Hasmal had _no_ reason to detain us."

"He's correct," Leliana said, speaking for the first time since arriving when she'd begged their pardon for her tardiness. "Dalish should not be kept in Circle towers. It is a recipe for dissention, indeed."

"See," Tal said, pointing at Leliana and looking challengingly to Cassandra. "See what I mean? It didn't matter with me because I was never an apprentice to a Keeper. I wasn't trained to be a leader. She was. So, yeah, she was furious that she was trapped there. It was fucking awful! The Templars picked on her because she's proud—and because she's a woman. And elven."

Cullen looked queasy at this, grimacing as he turned his head. Josephine stared down at her ledger, brow beetling. Cassandra curled her lip but said nothing. Leliana, meanwhile, was cool and impassive still. Even though she'd seemed to rise to his defense with her comment, Tal _hated_ that unreadable expression. At least when Rosa was being cunning she tended to look snarky and coy.

"There is indeed a terrible tendency in Circles for abuse of mages like Rosa," Leliana said. "But no one is denying that, your worship. The matter in question is not whether she was mistreated or whether you and she belonged at Hasmal. Instead, we are concerned that she may be a poor choice to bring to what we hope will be peace talks or a chance at alliance." Her blue eyes were steely, drilling into him. "We do not know who may be present at the meeting. What if it is a cleric from Hasmal who knows of that Circle's inner workings? I've also heard rumors that some Templars have returned to Val Royeaux to rejoin the chantry. What if the Knight-Captain from Hasmal is present and recognizes your sister?"

Tal shrugged. "So what? So she was in Hasmal. So what if that Circle fell to rebellion, like all the others in Thedas?"

"She was accused of murdering a Templar," Cassandra snapped. "Not of inciting rebellion. Clearly that happened regardless of her presence." She narrowed her eyes. "Unless you know she fomented the violence in that Circle."

Tal frowned, heart racing. He _did_ know. She _had_ fomented the violence there, with help from Revas. It happened after Tal's departure, but he always knew that was their escape plan. His job as a non-Dreamer was just to integrate and spy throughout. He was _very_ good at it, too.

"She was pretty vocal about not belonging there, so she probably planned to bust out," Tal said, playing loose and risky with the truth. But it seemed obvious, too. Rosa didn't belong in the Circle. She wanted out. To pretend she wouldn't be involved with the rebellion was silly. "But she didn't murder anyone." That was a lie, of course. Tal was proud of how smooth it came out, too.

"What about Revas?" Leliana asked suddenly. "Did he murder the Templar Rosa was accused of killing?"

"No, not a chance," Tal said and laughed before he could stop himself.

"What's so funny?" Cassandra snapped.

"Nothing," Tal said and then snickered again, covering it with his sleeve. "It's just Revas was weaker than a kitten back then. He had some kind of accident in a ruin somewhere and had his magic drained."

"How curious," Leliana said thoughtfully, clearly intrigued.

Tal grinned to cover the sudden sinking in his stomach, sure he'd fucked up just now. Revealing Revas' weakness had seemed like a great idea to convince them that he wasn't a suspect. Maybe that wasn't true.

"I recall that," Cassandra said, nodding. She glanced to the other advisors. "The artifact was found with him and stored in the Circle's archives." After a beat she added, "I do not know what became of it when the Circle fell."

Tal shrugged when Leliana and Cullen both shot him curious, but passing glances. None of them expected he would know what became of it. He _did_ know, though. Rosa helped Revas reclaim it, for reasons she wouldn't reveal. It was good the _shems_ didn't think he knew about it. He kept his mouth shut.

"Back to the matter at hand," Josephine said, clearing her throat. Void take him, but Tal enjoyed watching her lips move. They were perfectly shaped and inviting. Then again, Cullen had a nice mouth, too, and puppy dog eyes.

_Fenedhis,_ he thought and swallowed, feeling suddenly hot. He needed a drink. Badly. And maybe a nice romp with someone.

Nola's face flashed before his mind's eye and he grimaced, staring down at his feet with a rush of shame.

"I'm sorry, Herald," Josephine was saying, oblivious to his internal struggle. "But it would be unwise to bring Rosa Lavellan to this meeting. It is a risk we cannot afford to take. We must be seen as neutral and approachable. The grand clerics will not view a companion such as Rosa Lavellan as neutral."

He scowled. "Then I shouldn't bring Revas, either. He's not neutral. He's an apostate. A _real_ apostate, while Rosa and I are Dalish."

"What the ambassador is trying to say," Cullen said, with surprising gentleness, "is adding her into the mix will disrupt the balance you've currently achieved. Revas is an apostate, yes, but Cassandra is a Seeker and well-respected in both the chantry and by the Templars. Varric is uninvolved as a dwarf. Your group is somewhat balanced without her."

"It's not balanced," Tal grumbled. "That's ridiculous. No one is going to look at us and think we aren't leaning toward the mage side of things." He motioned at Cassandra. "She doesn't count as two people. Because you forgot me in your description. I'm a mage, too."

"Yes," Cullen conceded with a nod. "But you are Dalish, as you said. The grand clerics will not know what to make of you."

"They will think of you as Dalish firstly," Leliana added. "They will think the same of Rosa, as well, but that again draws things out of balance as the Commander said."

Tal scoffed. "You just _really_ don't want Rosa there, do you?"

"She should not make such a long journey regardless," Cassandra said. "She has an infant child. It is better for her to remain here."

"We're Dalish," Tal snapped. "All we do is make long journeys. My ancestors walked all the way from Tevinter to the Dales. We're used to it." He shrugged. "Besides, she already walked down from the Free Marches to get here."

Cassandra shook her head, still clearly disapproving. "I cannot condone it. On multiple levels."

"Yeah?" Tal growled. "Too bad. I want her advice. She's _my_ sister and even though you lot might not trust her, I do. If you don't like that then fine. Show me the door."

Josephine was wide eyed with alarm. "Herald, please! We are not suggesting she should be driven from Haven. We are only asking you to be reasonable and reconsider."

"She may not even wish to travel, as well," Leliana said. "I understand your heritage is nomadic, but she has not joined the Inquisition in an official capacity yet and she has both her clan and a very young child to care for. It is unfair for you to make these demands of her, is it not?"

Tal winced, feeling the weight of that argument. Winter and spring were both seasons of disease and human cities were filthy places. Eliana was young and vulnerable. She could catch any number of illnesses and, this young, would likely suffer a great deal. Clan life was fairly sheltered, but everyone knew young children often caught human diseases after the clan traded with them in spring.

Probably sensing weakness, Cullen added, "Additionally, we cannot know what dangers may be encountered on the road or within the city. It is a dangerous scenario for you, Herald. It will be for her, as well."

Tal rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, I get it. You all think Rosa is some kind of murderous rebel who the grand clerics will hate on sight and refuse to talk with us. Honestly, I don't think they're going to like _me_ alone any better." He motioned at himself and then let his hands flop against his thighs, defeated. "Look. I didn't ask her to come here. She came here because she wanted to be here for me. This isn't exactly coming naturally to me." He smirked, self-deprecatingly. "I'm sure you've all noticed that."

Cullen pretended to stare at the map, engrossed with the chess piece for Val Royeaux. Josephine was again staring furiously at her ledger. Cassandra looked bored and Leliana smiled, amused at his honesty.

"Thank you for taking our advice into consideration, Herald," Cullen said formally and then went on a little more candidly. "I am sure Rosa can accompany you on later missions. Perhaps back to the Hinterlands? There is much work yet to be done there."

Tal shrugged. "Sure, sure. Whatever." He blew out a breath and tilted his head back to stare at the cobwebs lining the dark ceiling rafters. "Are we done here? I have a date at the tavern. Her name is wine, in case you want to check into her background."

Cassandra gave one of her world-famous huffs of annoyance. "Please do not overindulge yourself, Herald. We must set off tomorrow to reach Val Royeaux in time."

"We _just_ got back," Tal whined.

"No rest for the weary," Josephine quipped.

"Nor the wicked," Leliana said, smirking at the other woman.

"I'm both right now," Tal told them, grinning. He whipped around on his heel and strode for the door. "If you need me I'll be on that date I mentioned at the tavern."

* * *

It was evening before Rosa sought out her brother and found him, as she expected, at the tavern. He was bleary-eyed and stank of alcohol, with his head cradled in the crook of one elbow on the bar. The tavern burbled with a quiet evening atmosphere that kept Rosa's voice hushed when she grabbed Tal by his ear and yanked him out of his seat. "Get up, _da'isamalin."_

"Ow!" Tal yelped. "Ow! Ow! Let go!" He flailed, knocking over the wine glass. Flissa scrambled, trying to catch it but failing. The glass cracked, the sound ricocheting through the tavern and drawing everyone's stares.

"Haven't you had enough to drink already today?" Rosa scolded him as she started dragging him for the door. "Considering you started off with a hangover. Wouldn't it be nice to wake up sober for once?"

"Let go!" Tal growled through gritted teeth. "Not drunk. Fucking swear…"

He stumbled and almost went sprawling, but at the last moment Rosa caught his arm and pulled him onto his feet. Contrary to his denial Tal's every word was a confused, slurred drawl. She hooked her arm into his and hiked through the tavern door out into the gathering gloom of evening. Tal kept staggering off the path and Rosa had to steady him, muscles straining.

" _I have little time before I must return to the clan,"_ she said to him, switching to elven.

"What?" Tal croaked, staring at her with his eyes bugged out and glistening too-wet with his drunkenness.

She sighed, realizing his mind was too clogged with alcohol to follow the elven. "I have to return to the clan soon. Eliana is napping. I wanted to check in on you before I retire with the clan." She swallowed the press of anxiety that was hot on her throat. "And I need to tell you that the _shemlen_ interrogated both Revas and I today."

"What?" Tal asked, twisting in her grip to gawk at her for a second before his lips formed a big round circle. "Oh. Yeah. That. Figured it out." He hiccupped and used his free hand to cover his mouth, groaning.

They walked through the cabins until they reached his. Rosa opened the door and helped her brother inside. She got him to the bed and pushed him onto it. He groaned, covering his face and then rolling to smash his head into the pillow. _"Fenedhis._ I _hate_ my life right now, _asamalin."_

"It could be worse," she told him as she moved down to his feet and gripped his boots. She frowned at the foreign footwear and began unlacing it. "You could be dead. The people you love could be dead."

"Elgar'nan's hairy ballsack," Tal cursed. "You're just a ray of sunshine."

"I told you," Rosa muttered, frowning again as she continued to fight with the boot lacings. "The _shemlen_ spymaster, the one with the red hair, interrogated me. So no, I am not in the greatest of moods."

"She threaten you?" Tal asked, peeking at her with one eye from the pillow.

Rosa paused, considering the exchange with the spymaster that morning. She saw Solas leaving just as she entered and she could still smell his scent in the cell they brought her into. It alarmed her, but she quickly realized what had the humans' hackles up—her involvement with the Hasmal Circle's rebellion and the murders of two Templars there.

They weren't worried as much by the Knight-Commander's death as they were the other Templar. They had nothing solid to pin the Knight-Commander's death on her. But for the other Templar, Ser Curtis, who'd sexually harassed her and beaten her, they'd pegged her as a primary suspect. To trick Rogathe, who possessed her at that time into leaving her body, Rosa had to face her fear. She tricked the spirit by facing off with Ser Curtis in a dream, but little did she know her wish that he die in the dreaming had rendered him _truly_ dead in reality. Dreamers could kill sleepers in the Fade, something she had not known previously.

She hadn't felt threatened by Leliana, exactly, but the danger was there. As a mother her sense of danger and her resulting fear were heightened. The _shemlen_ might never harm Tal because they needed him for his mark. But they could imprison her clan or take Eliana from her to force her to talk if they felt she wasn't trustworthy. They also seemed to suspect Solas, oddly enough. Leliana quizzed her a few times on how well she knew the apostate. Rosa was vague in her answers, but truthful. She knew him from the Hasmal Circle. They parted ways after the Circle fell in rebellion. She didn't mention how _well_ she knew him. It seemed to be enough for Leliana. But when she asked Rosa to explain once more why she'd come to Haven and Rosa mentioned Mahanon, her bond partner and Eliana's father had died, the spymaster's brow furrowed for an instant. It was as if she sensed a lie and for the briefest moment hinted as much. Rosa didn't take the bait, but she wondered what Solas told her.

By the time Leliana let her go free, Rosa was sweating profusely and Eliana needed a nappy change.

"No," she finally answered Tal, hesitating. "But it still might come to that. I don't know for sure what she's thinking. The Seeker must have reported on me and that changed her mind. She was very friendly with me before." She grunted as she tugged Tal's boot off and tossed it toward the foyer. Switching to his next foot, Rosa worked on that one's lacings. "I came away after my first meeting with the spymaster thinking they were ready to hire me as your sobriety-nanny."

Tal snorted. "You do that for free."

"You're right," Rosa said, chuckling as she pulled off his second boot and then grimaced at the whiff she caught of his feet. "When was the last time you bathed?"

"Baths here suck," Tal told her. "It's cold."

"So not recently," Rosa concluded. "That's fine. But try to do it soon. You have to have some self respect if anyone else is going to respect you in turn."

"Thanks, Keeper," Tal grumbled and hiccupped. "Chamber pot?" he asked in a slurred drawl.

Rosa dropped to her hands and knees and grabbed out the little ceramic pot from under the bed. "I assume you're going to throw up, your worship?" she teased.

"Maybe," he said and then grimaced and burped. Sighing, he relaxed and waved away her hand holding the pot. "Nah, just a…whatever."

"I'll leave it here for you," Rosa said, setting it beside the bed and making sure the clunk of it on the wood slats was loud enough Tal would have a rough idea of its location even not looking at it.

"Too good…" Tal mumbled. "For me…" He hiccupped again and then added, "Nola."

Rosa chuckled. "Wrong woman, _da'isamalin."_

"….yeah…?" he said, phrasing it as a question.

"Yes," she said and then slowly backed away from his bed to where the candles burned on the dresser. Cupping them each in turn, she blew them out and plunged the room into darkness. In the gloom she paused, listening to the wheeze of her brother's even breaths. Her chest tightened with worry for him. She knew he was fond of drink before this but…

_He will kill himself._

The _shemlen_ might be worried about her involvement in the death of a Templar predator who no one would miss, but she couldn't let their paranoia drive her away. Tal would drink himself into a stupor and die choking on his own vomit if this continued. The very idea of it cut her and brought stinging tears to her eyes. She sniffed, steeling her spine and pushing the emotion aside. Since becoming a mother—not just giving birth but merely carrying Eliana as well—Rosa found herself fighting tears far more often than she cared admit. She was supposed to be strong. A leader, First to clan Lavellan. People counted on her.

Tal counted on her, even if the _shemlen_ didn't know that yet. Until he could stand on his own, Rosa knew she needed to be here. When he was a boy and their father left unexpectedly, leaving Tal uneducated and un-apprenticed, Rosa took him under her wing in dreams. Now she would do the same and teach him how to be a leader.

Softly, Rosa tiptoed out of his cabin and hurried through Haven, toward the chantry. She found Leliana near the great doors, speaking in hushed voices to one of her scouts. The spymaster stopped talking when she spotted Rosa and quickly waved away the scout. Her eyes locked on Rosa and she called out, "Is something the matter?"

"Yes," Rosa told her, crossing her arms against the biting chill of the Frostback air. "It's Tal." She paused, biting her lip. "I know you don't trust me. I understand how this might look suspicious to you, but right now I don't care about that. I'll do whatever I need to prove myself trustworthy." She shook her head. "Put me through another Creator's-damned Harrowing if you want. I don't care. I am here to help my brother, your Herald." Her breath puffed out, fogging in the cold air. "And right now I need you and your people to work with me on keeping Tal away from the bottle."

Leliana eyed her with a mixture of amusement and irritation. "Did you think we hadn't tried already?" she asked with a dry laugh. She lowered her voice. "Flissa waters down his wine and ale. It does little good. He just drinks more of it."

This news silenced Rosa for a moment. Her heart hammered and her blood was cold with fear for Tal once more. "I'd like to join your Inquisition," she blurted. "To become one of the Herald's advisors. His teacher, actually."

"Teacher?" Leliana asked, cocking her head slightly. A strand of short red hair slipped out.

"Yes," Rosa said. "He doesn't know how to lead. He's terrified of the responsibility. I can help him. I'm sure of it." She hesitated an instant and then added, "I taught him magic. Our father left before he was more than a child. He knew so little. I taught him like he was my apprentice. I'll do the same again."

"I am not in the habit of turning away willing volunteers," Leliana admitted, a small twitch in her lips. "But, understand, I will continue my investigation regardless."

"Of course," Rosa said, forcing herself to smile. "I understand. But I hope you won't mind if I stay close to him and try to curtail his habit."

Leliana's smile seemed genuine now. "Of course. I wish you luck in that, Lady Lavellan." She was silent a beat and then asked, "I don't suppose you'd like to accompany him on the long journey to Val Royeaux, though. It would not be the safest venture for you, considering your little one."

Rosa nodded, frowning as she considered it. Her hand rose out of force of habit to her chest where normally she carried Eliana in a sling. Now she found the sling missing and felt naked and a spurt of irrational fear, even though she knew full well where her daughter was. "I'm not sure it would be wise for me to make the journey," she agreed. "But I fear no one else would be able to control Tal as well as I can. Or care for him." She wrung her hands anxiously and chuckled. "When he's like this I feel more like a mother to him than a sister. I mean, I just took his boots off him and put him to bed."

Leliana pinched her lips together. "It pains me to admit it, Lady Lavellan, but I think you're right. The Herald is in need of someone like you." She took a short breath. "Fortunately, by the grace of the Maker, we have you. But I must warn you. Cassandra and I will have our eyes on you until we're certain we can trust you. And should you decide to accompany him to Orlais we cannot bring you to the meeting with the Grand Clerics. The Herald must stand by himself there."

"Thank you," Rosa said somberly. "I understand."

Now Leliana smiled and it seemed genuine. She thrust out one gloved hand. "Welcome then, Lady Lavellan, to the Inquisition."

Rosa accepted her hand without hesitation. "Thank you."

* * *

**Next Chapter**

"She's a mage," Cassandra observed, shock coloring her voice. Solas tried not to wince.

Varric chuckled. "Runs in the family, Seeker." He took a long swig of his flask. "Violet's a mage. Chuckles is a mage. Even the Herald is a mage…" He shrugged and then asked, "Is Violet's mom a mage, too? I'd bet fifty royals she is. And probably her father, too."

"I would not advise you to take that wager," Solas said, aiming the words at Cassandra and affecting a lighthearted tone. He hoped the dwarf's levity would deflect whatever thoughts were swirling inside the Seeker's mind when she saw Eliana's magic. And, indeed, Varric was right that magic ran in Eliana's family. Both Rosa's parents were also mages. She _would_ lose the bet.


	5. Solas Tries to Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions mount as Rosa insists on taking Elia on a journey, despite Solas' misgivings. Additionally, Tal continues to struggle with a growing addiction to booze as he wrestles with the terrifying prospect of responsibility.

"Are you certain this is a prudent course of action?" Solas' voice came from behind her, quiet but rough in a way she recognized as disapproval.

Ashani, who Rosa had been talking to, stared off beyond her shoulder, lips pinching together. The healer folded cloth nappies, having washed them overnight. She worked without removing her look of censure from Solas and, when Rosa did not immediately turn to engage with the apostate, she resumed their previous conversation. "This should last two days without washing, but you'll want to wash as you go or it'll be a miserable time. You never know when the babe might have a gut fit from something she's gotten into."

"Thank you," Rosa said, smiling warmly at her mother-by-bonding. She took the wad of nappies and pushed them into a travel bag.

"The road to Val Royeaux is not safe," Solas protested. "You cannot take a child as young as Eliana on such an arduous journey unless you have no choice."

Rosa heaved a sigh and forced herself to ignore Solas. Ashani shot him a glare, following Rosa's lead that he was not, apparently, welcome. "Do you have any additional bottles? I thought perhaps I could let her suckle on a little water as we go. My milk may thin with stress."

Ashani nodded. "I have a few bottles, yes. I will fetch them from the aravel. But—" She lifted a finger as though to interject, "Best to eat fenugreek, spindleweed, and elf root to keep your supply up, rather than risk running low." She chuckled as she got to her feet from the furs around the hearth. "From the look of it, I'd say you're the only nursing mother in this whole village!"

With Ashani walking over to the aravel, Rosa at last scooted round to face Solas. He stood a few paces away, arms crossed confrontationally across his chest. A scowl warped his otherwise handsome features. "Rosa," he insisted. "You should not make this journey. Stay here, with Eliana."

Regarding him as coolly as she could, Rosa feigned a smile. "I'm sorry, Revas, but I believe you have forgotten your role in _my_ daughter's life."

He was red-faced but to his credit did not flinch or back down. "I apologize, Rosa, for not communicating with you previously as I'd promised. I've told you why I did not do so. But my role here is as her father."

"Her father was my bond partner, Mahanon," Rosa said, coldly. Then, feeling a stab of grief at the memory that Mahanon was gone—and guilt that she hadn't quite loved him the way she had Solas—she added, "Falon'Din guide his soul to the beyond."

Solas wrinkled his nose in distaste but had the grace not to say anything aloud except, "I am sorry for your loss." Then: "And I am sorry I was not present. But I am here now and I intend to protect and care for her as an equal partner."

Now Rosa swiftly checked around the hearth for the other members of her clan, but most of them were away hunting or foraging or trading. Ashani and Rinaya were the only ones who stayed with her to care for Eliana this morning—and to prepare her to set off for Val Royeaux. Satisfied they were relatively alone, Rosa got to her feet and approached her ex-lover, stiff-legged. In a low voice she said, "Tell me something, _Solas._ What does an old general of Mythal's know about raising a child?"

He squared his jaw, unflinching. "More than you would presume. For instance, I know infants are vulnerable to infection and illness, of which there are plenty on the road to Val Royeaux and then even more within the city itself."

Rosa narrowed her eyes at him, anger lashing her with its hot tongue. "Have you ever changed a nappy?" she challenged. "Do you know how she tells you she needs to nurse? Or when she's wet? Or when she's bored? Scared? Lonely?" She shook her head. "You don't know anything about her."

"Perhaps not," Solas hedged, stiffly. "But I know that I am capable of learning. More than that, I _wish_ to learn. I _want_ to know her. She is _my_ child as much as she is yours."

"Mahanon claimed her when you abandoned us," Rosa snapped, hearing Ashani emerge from the aravel. "He is her father."

She was about to turn her back on him when Solas' arm shot out, barring her way. Scowling, she turned to order him out of the way but the mixture of pain and anger she saw there gave her pause. He leaned closer to her and the scent of him drew up memories of lovemaking, passionate and heady—the sort of wild, wanton desire that made her careless enough to conceive Eliana with this man in the first place.

Solas whispered in elven, his accent so precise and elegant she couldn't help but feel longing coil in the pit of her belly. _"I am her father. I wish only to protect her. Please, do not keep her from me."_ He licked his lips and added, _"I was not present at her birth, but would Mahanon have known her magic? She will be strong. She will need me."_

Her throat went thick with emotion as part of her, a part of her she tried to stamp on like a cockroach, warmed with joy at this. She had not expected Solas to so firmly fight for his paternal rights. It was the sort of thing she had dreamt of while she lay awake, stroking her growing belly, wondering what had become of her child's father. As often as she proclaimed Mahanon was Eliana's father, her heart knew it wasn't true. If she'd believed Solas was coming back, that he cared and wanted to know his child…

She would have spurned Mahanon in a heartbeat. It was a shameful thing to admit, even to herself. She hated herself for it and so tried to deny that truth all the more. Solas was not Eliana's father in anything but flesh. Yet flesh mattered, because it affected magic, just as Solas said. Eliana would need him.

She sighed and, aware of Ashani nearby, replied, _"We will discuss this later."_ She knocked his arm aside and moved to the healer to take the bottles from her, smiling tiredly. "Is she still asleep in the aravel?" she asked.

"Yes," Ashani replied. "I checked her just a moment ago. Sound asleep, the sweet little thing."

"If you insist on traveling," Solas said, obstinate. "May I suggest Eliana remains here? I would be willing to remain here with her and care for her."

Ashani scoffed. "Do you plan to grow breasts so you can feed her then?"

Solas frowned, red-faced all the way to his ears as understanding dawned. "She does not yet eat solid food?"

"No," Rosa said, gentler than Ashani. Facing the healer, she strove for neutrality. "Please, mother, you must forgive his ignorance. He has lived a life devoid of very young children until now."

"Clearly," Ashani muttered, glaring in Solas' direction. Rosa fidgeted, worrying that her mother-by-bonding could still see the heat lingering between them. Was it brutally obvious? She prayed not.

"Please be gentler with him, mother," Rosa said, trying to sweet talk the older woman. "He is trying. I appreciate it." She frowned, weighing her next words carefully. Ashani still grieved, as they all did. She might not respond well to the idea of the future. "Elia will need a teacher. There is none better than this man, in terms of magic."

Ashani's look was doubtful, but she was a practical woman and did not immediately reject the idea. But the pain that flashed through her eyes still stabbed at Rosa with guilt. But finally she relented, softly admitting, "He can't be all that bad, I suppose. He clearly cares for her wellbeing."

"That is my thinking exactly," Rosa said, quietly. She turned and packed the bottles in the bag. Solas still stood nearby, implacable.

"You will not be dissuaded?" he asked, stiffly.

Rosa sighed as she straightened, rubbing her face with one hand. "To be honest," she said, dropping her volume so that none but Solas and possibly Ashani would overhear. "I don't want to do this. I _am_ concerned Elia could get sick on the road. My milk could dry up. We could be attacked. She could die." She stopped, choking at just the suggestion. Swallowing, she recomposed herself. "But I am more concerned for my brother. If I go, something bad _could_ happen to Elia. But if I don't go, I am _sure_ something bad _will_ happen to Tal." She laid a hand at her throat, feeling it bob with her emotion. "Have you seen it So—Revas? He drinks constantly. One morning we will wake up to find he's died of it. None of the _shemlen_ will care for him the way I will, day and night if I must. He won't listen to any of them, anyway. It has to be me."

Solas' lips twitched. "He may listen to me. Prior to your arrival I struggled to control his habit. I am also willing to monitor him the way you indicated."

"Then we can tag team the effort," Rosa suggested as she hefted up the large travel bag and then pushed it toward him. "Would you please bring this to the stables for me? _Ma serannas."_

Gripping the bag, Solas scowled unhappily but turned and did as she ordered. Ashani moved to Rosa's side as she stood, watching Solas walk away. The healer sighed and shook her head. "A stubborn, bullheaded man, that one."

"Yes," Rosa agreed and then, hearing a thin querulous cry from the aravel, she spun on her heel to go attend to her daughter.

* * *

For the long journey to Val Royeaux the fledgling Inquisition traveled in a protective caravan. Tal could have ridden forward, ahead of the group, but with Rosa riding in the cart with most of their supplies more often than not, he lingered back. Cassandra led in his stead. Varric and Solas became the odd men out, for varying reasons.

Varric seemed to _want_ to stay back with the supplies to make small-talk with Rosa and Tal, but he must have also found it awkward to be the intruder in the otherwise all-elf pseudo-family group. So he divided his time between riding ahead with Cassandra and mingling with Rosa and Tal.

Solas, for his part, was even more at odds with where he should be within the group. He was torn between aloof duty with Cassandra at the front and trying to make some headway with Rosa. She seemed alternatively open to his attempts to grow closer to Eliana and then rebuffed his efforts just when he got his hopes up. Tal was little better, making grand displays on more than one occasion to show he was a trusted caretaker while Solas was most definitely not. He cuddled with Eliana, carried her, played with her, changed her diapers, and told her stories whenever Rosa was taking a break—never leaving Solas an opening.

When they reached the first flatlands beyond the Frostbacks, on the third day out the caravan stopped at a sizable lake to refill their canteens and catch a few fish to subsidize their meat stocks. Rosa took advantage of the stop to give Eliana a bath. She allowed Solas to fetch water and heat it, but when it was warm she worked with Tal rather than him to actually bathe the baby.

Despite his frustration and irritation at the clear rejection, Solas remained close to watch the process. He hoped to learn through observation, like an apprentice. He tried to soothe his wounded pride by telling himself that Rosa would be a fool to thrust the infant's care at him without a learning period and that's what this was as much as a test. In the end tending to Eliana did not seem like _hard_ work, just _tedious._ There was always something more to be done.

As they settled in to camp for the night, all of Tal's inner circle shared one hearth. Fish that Varric had caught using both Bianca and a traditional fishing rod sizzled over the fire. Cassandra cleaned her armor and sharpened her sword, as she did virtually every night whether they needed the work or not. Varric did similar maintenance on Bianca to keep the crossbow's parts in good working order.

Solas tried to focus on a tome, having summoned a little veilfire for light, but everything conspired against him. First Rosa's presence distracted him as he kept catching himself staring at her across the fire. Sometimes it was just the fact she was _near_ him again that did it. Other times it was the resounding shock still rippling through him at the sight of her infant daughter. Rosa, in her turn, nursed Eliana and kept her entertained, but the baby's frequent squeals and coos and babbling routinely drew Solas' eyes back to mother and daughter.

But ultimately, with enough concentration, Solas could have ignored them. Yet they weren't the biggest distractor.

That dubious honor belonged to Tal.

Increasingly he whined about wanting a drink. First it was joking in the day. Then, as night descended and still no one would let Tal out of their sights where he might go to the supply wagon and snatch a wine bottle, he became angry.

"Where are you going?" Rosa asked when he stood up just before the fish were done cooking.

"To piss," he snapped at her. "Where else would I go, huh? You want to come watch?"

"I will join you," Solas said. He could stand to empty his bladder. Shutting his book and winking the veilfire orb out of existence he was on his feet before Tal protested.

"Forget it, Revas. I don't want a pissing party. Besides, the food's ready." Tal stomped back over to the firelight and plopped down.

Cassandra frowned at him across the fire but said nothing. Varric, meanwhile, clapped his hands and said, "Stoic's right! Let's eat!"

Solas helped dish out the food, giving hearty portions to everyone but himself. He had been collecting elf root and spindleweed most of the day, as well as the frequent edible mushrooms scattered over the forest floor so he wasn't very hungry.

Tal smacked his lips exaggeratedly. "Looks great, Varric. Oh! Hey, you have a swig of—"

"No," Rosa interjected, bouncing Eliana on her knee. "Varric doesn't have a swig of anything for you, I'm sorry." She shot a meaningful look across the fire at the dwarf. "Isn't that right?"

Varric smiled tightly and spread his beefy hands in a helpless gesture. "Fraid Violet's right, Stoic. I'm fresh out of whiskey. The Seeker took my stash before we set out." He jerked a thumb toward Cassandra. "A real killjoy, that one."

"Are you sure?" Tal growled.

"Yeah," Varric said, laughing. "I've known it since I first met her." In an aside to Cassandra, he winced and apologized. "Sorry. Please don't hit me."

"I make no promises," Cassandra told him, eyes narrowed even though her mouth quirked with humor.

"I'm not talking about Cass," Tal snapped, quickly losing his patience. "And you know it."

"He doesn't have anything to share with you," Cassandra put in firmly. "And don't call me _Cass."_

Tal glared over his steaming plate of fish. "Isn't it some kind of sin against the Maker to deny a suffering man a little wine with his dinner? Just. One. Thrice-damned. Glass?"

"I must have missed that verse in the Chant of Light," Cassandra muttered as she began to eat her own meal.

Tal cursed under his breath and then sighed, giving in for the moment. He took up his steaming plate of fish and began shoveling it into his mouth, chewing with a lackluster expression. Soon he was chasing bits of pale flesh about with his fingers and making faces like a fussy child.

The actual child in their group, Eliana, reached repeatedly for Rosa's plate. "Mamam mam," she babbled and spit. Rosa moved the plate around, avoiding her daughter's grabby fists and eating as fast as she could.

Solas watched, fascinated at the slow expressions crossing Eliana's face. Her eyes stayed glued to the food plate, pudgy hands and arms outstretched. She didn't seem to connect her inability to reach the plate with her mother's restraining hand on her chest and thought instead that if she tried hard enough she could grab _something._ The longer she went without achieving her goal, the fussier she got.

"Ahh!" she squealed in frustration. "Ma! Mah!"

"Shh," Rosa shushed her. "I'll give you a taste when I'm done, _da'len."_

"Is it safe?" Cassandra asked, also watching the scene. She seemed to view the infant as both intriguing and intimidating, like an insect she'd never seen before that was both beautiful and drew the eye irresistibly yet also might be deadly. Sometimes when Eliana started crying she bolted, as though the sound pained her. Other times she seemed not to care at all, as though she was deaf to the baby's cries.

"She could choke," Solas added.

This drew Rosa's ire as she shot him an irritable look. "I know what I'm doing, flat-ear."

"Here," Tal said and shoved his half-eaten fish at Rosa. "Elia can have mine." He made a show of stretching and then got to his feet. "Well, bedtime, mates. See you in the morning." But he kept walking instead of going to his tent, ambling nonchalantly in a direction that would take him toward the nearby woods…and the supply cart.

"Herald," Cassandra protested. "The tents are—"

"I'm going for that piss, Seeker," he called back to her, waving her away. "Don't worry."

Now Rosa cursed and got to her feet, hiking a fussy Eliana up into her arms. She stomped around the fire and walked up to Solas. "Can you watch her for a minute? I need to go keep Tal from drinking the supply cart dry of wine."

"Of course," Solas stammered as he held out his arms and received the squirming, fussy bundle. As Rosa rushed from the fire to catch up to Tal, Solas scooted back and settled Eliana into his lap. The baby whimpered, twisting to gaze at her mother. She flapped her hands and then looked to him again, her little face wrinkling as she prepared to cry in earnest.

"Oh no," Cassandra said, horror warping her features. "She's going to cry. Hurry. Do something, Revas."

Panic fluttered in the back of his head. Solas had been a teacher, a mentor in magic many times to children as young as ten or so. He had never cared for infants. He'd watched Rosa and Tal handling Eliana effortlessly for days. Now, staring at her, he was like a nug caught in a dragon's sights. Hesitantly, he started bouncing her on one knee as he had seen Rosa doing.

" _Aneth ara,"_ he tried greeting her, smiling.

"Blow raspberries on her belly," Varric suggested, laughing. "That always does it with kiddies."

Solas looked over at the dwarf, confused. "Pardon? I don't understand your meaning."

"Raspberries," Varric said and puckered his lips, blowing. He stopped after a moment, chuckling self-consciously. "You know."

Stiff with self-consciousness and his own unfamiliarity with this, Solas stared at Eliana again and saw the baby was looking at Varric, eyes wide with curiosity. Clearly Varric was onto something with that suggestion. So, as unnatural as it felt to Solas, he drew in a breath and bent over to blow a so-called "raspberry" at his daughter.

Eliana blinked up at him and then grinned wide. She flapped her chubby arms and squealed. "Mamamama mah!"

"Yes," Solas agreed, grinning at her nonsense as relief suffused him. He'd averted the crying fit. "Is that so, _da'len?"_

Eliana squirmed against his hands, reaching for his head and face. "Mah! Mamamamama! Mah! Mah! Fffffplfffth."

"Well," he said, cringing back against the wave of spittle she showered him with. "I believe I will need to wash my face again before retiring to bed."

Varric laughed. "Did she give you a spit shower?"

"Yes." He didn't break eye contact with Eliana as he dug a finger into her baby flab and tickled. Eliana wriggled and little giggles spilled out of her in fast little gasps. The sound of her laughter and the sight of her joy warmed him, thrilled him.

Then, from Cassandra, "She resembles you." Varric made a small noise as he choked off his own reaction to that comment.

Solas felt his cheeks flush hot. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to lift his eyes from Eliana to Cassandra, fighting for a polite smile. There was no sense denying the obvious. The Seeker and Varric had to both know the truth already. It was no secret considering his interrogation with Leliana. He cleared his throat and tucked Eliana closer to him protectively as she continued to squirm and flail in his lap. "That would be because she is my daughter."

"Elves move fast, huh Revas?" Varric pulled out his flask—the very one he was _not_ supposed to have—and took a swig from it.

Solas frowned and chose not to dignify that comment with a reply.

"What?" Varric asked defensively as Cassandra shot him an angry glare. Unlike Solas she _did_ choose to react to his comment.

The Seeker gave her trademark-disgusted noise and then swiveled her head to Solas. Her expression was soft with an emotion he couldn't quite interpret. Admiration? Appreciation? Empathy? Sympathy? "Revas," she said, his alias name unfamiliar on her lips through her Nevarran accent. "It is an admirable thing you are doing. I am sorry Rosa does not currently show her appreciation. Maker willing, she will someday soon."

Solas didn't know how to react to _that._ The Seeker was a strange mixture of martial duty, stoicism, short-temper, terseness…and compassion. That she gave any thought at all to his situation with Rosa was disconcerting and only made his cheeks burn hotter with embarrassment.

Rather than reply to Cassandra he returned his attention to Eliana and saw she had noticed his plate, which still had some flakes of fish meat on it. She squealed and reached for it. Solas pulled her back. "No, _da'len._ "

"Mamamama!" she protested. As she flapped her hands in frustration, Solas saw the green glow in her palms and felt the tingle of magic charge his skin.

Aware of the Seeker's eyes still on the baby, Solas hurriedly grabbed her hands in his own much larger palm and tried to dampen the clumsy display of magic with a dispelling. He clucked his tongue and tried to shush her, rocking and bouncing her. Inwardly he cursed himself for knowing so little about infants and magical manifestations. Mages in this post-Veil world as far as he knew did not typically show their power until childhood. But perhaps the Seeker would not think it unusual that a child of two mages would display power so young? Or perhaps it was as strange as he feared and would make the Seeker and Cullen and Leliana all scrutinize Eliana's parents more thoroughly.

Solas also didn't know what a manifestation of magic this young could indicate of Eliana herself. Had _he_ possessed magic this young? He would never know with his parents long dead. Yet Rosa seemed fairly unconcerned when he mentioned it to her in the dream he shared with her. And Rosa's mother yet lived. He would have to try to speak to Rosa in the Fade, ask what she knew and if she didn't have the answer he'd ask her to retrieve it from her mother.

And he had to do all of that without tipping either his ex-lover, her mother, Tal, or anyone else off that he feared Eliana might reveal herself to be _extremely_ powerful. The baby hadn't suffered the weakening Solas had from erecting the Veil and did not know to hide her power either. Solas had literal _ages_ of experience masking his own strength, from childhood onward. But in Elvhenan everyone possessed more strength than this post-Veil world. It was _extremely_ unlikely, but Eliana could be another Evanuris. Could a newborn Evanuris hide how different she was in this anti-magic world? She could accidentally draw suspicion and fear not just onto herself, but onto him as others wondered just where her enormous magical talent came from.

As usual, Solas was endangering everyone he loved. Typical.

"She's a mage," Cassandra observed, shock coloring her voice. Solas tried not to wince.

Varric chuckled. "Runs in the family, Seeker." He took a long swig of his flask. "Violet's a mage. Chuckles is a mage. Even the Herald is a mage…" He shrugged and then asked, "Is Violet's mom a mage, too? I'd bet fifty royals she is. And probably her father, too."

"I would not advise you to take that wager," Solas said, aiming the words at Cassandra and affecting a lighthearted tone. He hoped the dwarf's levity would deflect whatever thoughts were swirling inside the Seeker's mind when she saw Eliana's magic. And, indeed, Varric was right that magic ran in Eliana's family. Both Rosa's parents were also mages. She _would_ lose the bet.

Cassandra made a noise of interest in her throat and replied to Varric. "Yes, some families have a strong tendency toward magic. Hawke's father and his sister were both mages, were they not?"

"Yep," Varric answered. "Did I ever tell you about the time Hawke and I…"

As Varric drifted off into a tale about the Champion of Kirkwall, Solas relaxed and focused on Eliana again. The baby had given up on trying to get his plate and the meat on it. Now she was tugging on his wolf jawbone necklace and cooing. She was reclined in his lap and comfortable, her eyelids beginning to droop.

When Rosa returned, her arm linked through Tal's, Solas was quietly smug at the way her eyes landed on him and Eliana and lingered there. She ushered a very grumpy looking Tal into his tent and then walked around the fire toward Solas. Eliana stirred as she recognized her mother and let out a soft noise of excitement. She released Solas' necklace and lifted both hands, reaching for her mother.

"Maaam," she said.

"Thanks for watching her," Rosa said, smiling slightly.

"It was a pleasure," he told her, returning the smile. He gently shifted Eliana, lifting her so that Rosa could pick her up more easily.

"Revas is a natural," Varric put in, winking at Solas.

"Yes," Cassandra agreed but then added, "She seems to be showing signs of magic despite such a young age."

Rosa's head snapped toward the Seeker, alarm coloring her features clearly, even in the firelight. Solas swallowed, his own chest going suddenly tight at this topic. He'd hoped Cassandra would not mention it but clearly she _did_ find it unusual.

Rosa blinked away her alarm and shrugged as she adjusted Eliana in her arms. "Are you trying to say you're going to take my baby away to a Circle, Seeker?"

"No," Cassandra said, frowning. "I was merely making conversation. I was not aware one so young could even possess magic." She appeared chastened, looking away. "You are Dalish and so do not belong in a Circle. I did not mean to offend."

"The Circles might not be around much after this for all anyone knows," Varric pointed out. "So I think you can relax, Violet."

Nodding absently at them, Rosa kissed and nuzzled Eliana, making the baby giggle. "It's time for bed, _da'len."_

Solas watched mother and child retire to the same tent as Tal, as she had every night during their trek. There she would keep tabs on Tal and prevent him from sneaking away in the middle of the night for a drink. At least that was the plan. Rosa might sleep right through him leaving stealthily. Solas had wordlessly agreed to aid her by sacrificing some of his own sleep to maintain watch by the fire until about midnight when he would retire as well and they'd hope that exhaustion would keep Tal asleep rather than raiding the supply cart.

Sighing, Solas grabbed the tome up again and summoned veilfire again. His arms felt…cold. Empty. It was startling to realize he missed holding the baby. The book was a poor substitute.

"Does magic run in your family too, Chuckles?" Varric asked lightheartedly. Cassandra had returned to working over her sword and armor, scowling to herself with concentration.

"Yes," he answered simply and left it at that. He couldn't recall if he'd been truthful about that in the Hasmal Circle with Varric over a year ago or not. He hoped he had.

"Figures," Varric said and chuckled. "You _really_ would have lost that bet, Seeker."

The Seeker grunted dismissively, a not-so-subtle sign she no longer wished to discuss it. Solas hoped she'd lost interest and wasn't just contemplating how odd the extremely early display of magic was.

* * *

"Well," Tal grumbled, "that was _abso-fucking-useless."_ His muscles were twitchy and his head achy as they walked out of the square in Val Royeaux where they'd met the Chantry clerics and Lord Seeker Luscious, or whatever the fuck his name was. Grand Enchanter Fiona had met with them as well, inviting them to the Hinterlands for a meet and greet with the rebel mages that sounded far more enticing to Tal than wining and dining the Templars.

But none of it sounded as good as a drink. Now that Rosa was no longer with them—they'd left her at the inn the Inquisition rented out in its entirety—he might actually have a chance to get it. There was a little outdoor café nearby and Tal made straight for it as soon as Fiona left them.

Revas stopped him before he'd gone more than six feet. "Herald," the older elf called to him. "Perhaps we should investigate this other matter." He was referring to the arrow that'd landed in the square earlier with a message attached. They were supposed to investigate anything red in the market square for clues.

Tal shrugged as nonchalantly as he could despite the ongoing ache in his head. "I'll check the cafe for red tokens." It was a flimsy attempt at a lie, but maybe Revas wasn't invested enough in booze-blocking him. Tal didn't have the mental energy to expend coming up with a better lie, anyway. He stayed on course, marching for the outdoor café.

Unfortunately Tal quickly heard the patter of Revas' feet behind him, closing in fast. He hunched his shoulders with tension and irritation, hands clenching into fists at his sides. When he felt Revas grab his bicep to stop him, Tal jerked away from him and cursed. "Lay off."

"Herald," Revas protested as Tal continued into the shade of the café. "Please."

Ignoring him, Tal reached the Orlesian server and motioned at the man. "Yo, can I get a bottle of wine?" He used his thumb to indicate Revas lurking behind him. "He's paying for me. I'm the Herald of Andraste." He winked as the server frowned, taken aback.

"I will _not_ be paying," Revas said. "Please, Herald. Come with me and rejoin the others."

Tal snarled to himself and then, spotting a red handkerchief on the floor under one of the café's tables, he pointed to it. "Revas, why don't you go make yourself useful and collect that thing. It's red." To the bewildered server he said, "I'll pay for the wine. In fact, get me two bottles. One for me and the other for the stingy bastard behind me."

"Herald," Revas repeated, exasperated.

"Ser," the server said, eyes flicking between Tal and Revas. "This is most irregular."

Sighing irritably, Tal dug into his armor, which was really just a glorified vest, and pulled out a small coin purse. He fished into it, brow furrowing and brain fuzzy. Which coins were right for this scenario? He couldn't remember if the bronze colored ones or the silvers were worth more. Finally he pulled out one of each and slammed them onto the counter separating him from the server. "Will that cover two bottles?"

"Ser?" the server asked, head tilted slightly. His half-mask was made of silver and glinted in the sun reflecting off the floor in a way that made Tal's headache worse.

Judging by the server's expression the amount Tal offered was wrong but would easily cover two bottles. Tal waved at the coins. "Take them and bring me two or three bottles, whatever this is worth." Gesturing at his face where the dark lines of his vallaslin stood out stark on his pallid skin, he added, "I'm not from around here, so you can _totally_ take advantage of me. I don't care, just get me the wine."

The server scooped up the coins and whipped around to collect the wine bottles Tal asked for. Behind Tal, Revas heaved a long, disappointed sigh that needled and then shattered the last of Tal's patience.

Spinning round to face the older elf, Tal leveled his finger at him. _"Fenedhis._ You really are annoying, you know that? I do something nice for you, like buying a bottle of good Orlesian wine for both of us, and you're so ungrateful you huff and sigh behind my back? Unbelievable." He heard the clunk of the wine bottles behind him as the server set them down and grabbed one without even turning to look at them. "I deserve this. I _earned_ it today facing off with the Templars and the Chantry clerics and fuck-all whoever else."

As he spoke, Tal grimaced, working the cork out until it gave a dull _pop_. Revas made no comment, but his lips thinned and his eyes narrowed with obvious disapproval. The cork landed on the floor with a patter and Tal brought the open bottle to his nose to inhale the rich aroma.

"Please," Revas said again in a low voice, gritting his teeth. "It is for your own good, Herald." He paused a beat and then leaned closer as he added, "Tal."

In leaning closer Revas gripped Tal's shoulder, squeezing. Tal idly tried to shrug off the other man but then hissed with surprise as he felt magic tear through him. Alarmed, Tal staggered backward, bumping into the counter behind him. The other wine bottle rattled and clunked as it fell onto its side and began to roll toward the edge. The server gasped and lunged, grabbing up the bottle just in time.

"…the fuck?" Tal asked, snarling at Revas. He slapped at the other elf's hand and Revas coolly removed it and stepped back.

"Please, Herald," he said, motioning toward where Cassandra and Varric had come to stand just outside the café. The dwarf noticed the red scarf on the floor and pointed it out to the Seeker. He trundled ahead on his short legs, quickly plucking the red token from the floor and squinting to read the message scribbled on it.

"You three have the search for red under control," Tal muttered, shooting a glare at Revas. "Don't touch me like that again." He still felt…odd. Revas' touch had tingled his skin, flushing him hot and then cold. It passed swiftly, but the world seemed strangely bright at the edges of his vision. When he turned his head colors and shapes streaked together in a blur. He shut his eyes tight, blinking several times in the hope it would pass. It did not.

Revas dipped his head to Tal. "Then I bid you enjoy your wine, Herald." He smirked just slightly as he spun on his heel and marched away to join Cassandra and Varric.

Suspicion made Tal's heart hammer. He immediately brought the wine bottle to his lips and drew in a big gulp. The wine hit his tongue, zingy and sweet and…

Except it wasn't any of those things.

It tasted like piss mixed with halla dung.

Tal's mouth rebelled, as did his throat. He gagged, spitting the noxious fluid out onto the floor. The other patrons at the café, all snobbish Orlesians wearing masks, lifted their heads and curled their lips. Gasps echoed from the ladies about the café. Tal flushed red hot and, shaking as he tried not to retch more at the lingering aftertaste, snatched the unopened bottle from the counter and stormed out.

Fuming, he waited beside the fountain on the far side so no one from the café could stare at him. He took exploratory sips on the wine again and as before found it unpalatable. He spat as discreetly as he could into the fountain. His free hand closed into a fist. What in the void had Revas done to him?

When Cassandra, Varric, and Revas returned, Tal was ready to kill the other elf. _"What did you do to me?"_ he demanded in elven as Revas neared.

Cassandra and Varric both made faces of confusion at the foreign tongue and glanced between the two elves. They held other red tokens, plucked from various spots around the square. Tal didn't care what they'd found. Right now the only thing he could think about was skewering Revas and roasting him alive for denying him this _one simple pleasure._

Revas squared his shoulders and stared at Tal with an impassive expression. _"It was for your own good,_ lethallin."

"Fuck that," Tal snarled. "Undo it."

"No."

"I _order_ you to undo it!"

Revas' eyes narrowed and for a moment Tal had the impression of an implacable mountain standing in the other elf's place. He knew Revas wouldn't yield. The momentary insight reminded him like a slap to the face that his sister's former lover was not some wandering apostate with a penchant for the unusual the way he claimed. Tal knew enough of Elvhenan from his father that he could see the incredible similarities between Revas and Felassan. He'd long suspected Revas was an Elvhenan survivor and the sleep spell he used on Tal when they first tried to close the breach all but confirmed it. Now here was this strange spell, compounding Tal's certainty, though he knew Revas would pass it off as something he learned in the Fade from spirits or dreams or some old tome.

But then Varric interrupted, lifting both meaty hands up in a placating gesture. "Whoa, whoa. Chuckles, Stoic, what's going on?"

Tal hesitated, options spinning in his head. He could test his new weird and unwanted authority by declaring Revas had used magic on him in some sort of hostile way. He could ask Seeker Pentaghast to lock Revas in irons or tell Leliana what he suspected about Revas' hidden origins. But doing those things was far more hostile than he felt the situation warranted, which meant it could be Rogathe subtly influencing him. Did he really want to antagonize Revas when he was almost certainly Elvhen? The wealth of knowledge and raw arcane power he likely possessed made that unwise. Besides, up until Revas abandoned Rosa in the Free Marches, Tal always liked the other man.

But _damn._ He _really_ wanted that drink. This was _not_ fair!

Defiant, Tal lifted the wine bottle to his lips and took another little sip while glaring at Revas. The taste again puckered his face and made him gag involuntarily. He twisted and spat into the fountain. As Cassandra curled her lip in disgust and Varric whistled, shaking his head, Tal hawked and spat to clean out the foul taste. Snarling, Tal thrust the wine at Varric. "Tell me how that tastes to you."

Varric blinked at him, hesitating. "Stoic…?"

"Just do it, please," Tal said, thrusting the bottle out once more. The wine inside tinkled as it splashed against the glass.

Varric glanced at the Seeker and then Revas before shrugging and accepting the bottle. He took a casual swig and swallowed. A moment later he nodded, his expression indicating it was fairly flavorful. "Good vintage, Stoic. Tastes like you spent too much coin, though. Ruffles is going to skin you alive for that kind of expense."

"Frivolous," Cassandra added, frowning. "You have been warned not to drink to excess, Herald."

Tal ignored their comments and shot Revas a glowering look. _"Dispel it,"_ he ordered, using elven.

Revas shook his head once. His lips twitched slightly in one corner, likely resisting a smirking smile. "I'm sorry, Herald. I don't understand."

"Elgar'nan's hairy ballsack," he cursed. "Everyone knows you're lying there."

"Explain," Cassandra snapped, losing her patience as she looked between the two mages. "What is this about?" Before either could answer she huffed in exasperation and glanced around the marketplace. "We cannot be seen arguing like this. It is childish and unproductive—especially in public."

"Never mind," Tal growled. He stooped and picked up the unopened wine bottle, cradling it close protectively, much like Rosa did with Eliana. As he straightened he locked gazes with Revas and glowered. In elven he snarled, _"You think doing this sort of shit will get you back in my sister's bed?"_ He scoffed. _"May you learn."_

His reward was the flash of anger across Revas' face as he turned away. Tal stomped ahead, leading the rest of his gaggle of misfits toward the city gates.

* * *

**Next Chapter**

Tal snickered, then grimaced as he tasted vomit from a far corner of his mouth. "I bet that went over great with Cassandra."

"Oh yes," Rosa grumbled. He didn't look at her but he could feel her glare. "Especially when, after she told you we'd all heard enough, you tried to seduce her."

Now Tal winced. "I did?"

"You spoke elven so only Revas and myself understood, but I think the air humping motions you made and the kisses you blew at her broke the language barrier." She heaved another longsuffering sigh. "But that wasn't my favorite part," Rosa went on angrily. "No, my favorite part was when you started accusing Revas of blood magic."


	6. Ambushed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fledgling Inquisition is attacked on the road, with dire results.

With both money and time limited to the fledgling Inquisition, Cassandra suggested their motley band head straight to the Hinterlands for the meeting with the rogue mages. Tal protested, and Rosa was somewhat inclined to agree with him, although for different reasons, but Cassandra would not be swayed. The Seeker addressed Tal's concerns about supplies and soldiers by coordinating resupply and reinforcements from Haven. That alleviated everything for him but travel weariness, which worsened by the day the longer he went without a drink.

Rosa had her own concerns about such prolonged travel, but Tal either didn't see them or ignored them. Out of a desire not to overstep her bounds and lead in her brother's stead, Rosa didn't mention them. But every day she struggled to keep a clean supply of nappies for Eliana and the baby was short tempered with naps interrupted, playtime restricted, and too little time out of her sling.

Eliana was old enough to be intensely curious about the people and things around her. To be denied the chance to reach for Cassandra's sword, the horses, and every passing soldier who came into view made her cranky. Or maybe she was just teething. Regardless, Rosa missed her mother-through-bonding and the other members of her clan who'd come with her to Haven and could have helped occupy Eliana to give her a chance to rest.

Tal was always willing to watch her, but he was as cranky as Eliana was these days and prone to snapping at her or giving her bits of food to silence her. That trick resulted in a bout of colic and gas that had Eliana squalling fitfully for a few nights, much to Rosa's quiet horror and everyone else's grumbling annoyance. After that Rosa tried to keep Eliana with her at all times to avoid another Uncle-inflicted stomach upset…but the temptation grew increasingly within her to include Solas over Tal as a caregiver and babysitter, much to her dismay.

She didn't know how she felt about her ex-lover anymore, but as Tal turned grouchy and despondent over his strange inability to consume any alcohol, Solas seemed to always find a way to be useful. First he volunteered to wash nappies and other clothing for Rosa. Then, when Eliana developed colic, he appeared with soothing herbs he made into a tea to help the baby sleep and ease her tummy. He replaced the worn leather handle about her staff and offered to mend a tear in her traveling coat, without being asked. He was almost always at her disposal and she sensed no resentment or hesitation while Tal was at times short-tempered and constantly bickering with Solas.

She knew from her brother that he believed Solas had _done_ something to him to keep him from enjoying alcohol. She wanted to support Tal and defend him against the unknown, frightening magic Tal claimed Solas used on him, but simultaneously she couldn't stop herself from being _grateful._ She could at last relax that Tal wouldn't slink off to drink himself into the void the second she let her guard down. If it wouldn't have been such a betrayal of her brother Rosa might've even thanked the Elvhen man.

Unfortunately, whatever charm Solas used on Tal didn't last.

They were just entering the hinterlands, still about three days journey from Redcliffe, having stopped for the night off to one side of the road near a sizable creek. Rosa stayed in the supply cart to rest and nurse Eliana, as she always did in the early evenings when they stopped to make camp. She was dozing, her mind flitting in and out of the Fade, touching dreamscapes spirits shaped for her, when a loud thump woke her. She inhaled sharply, tensing and reaching at once for Eliana to tuck her protectively to her body as she gazed around.

The sky was orangey with sunset as, through the canvas covering her and Eliana, she saw it was Tal who'd plopped into the cart. He held a wine bottle and a broad grin. "I beat it, _asamalin,"_ he gloated. Lifting the bottle in a mocking toast, he winked. "Revas can suck my cock."

She frowned as he lifted the wine bottle's mouth to his lips and drank a huge gulp. When he lowered the bottle he sighed deeply with satisfaction. _"Fenedhis,"_ he cursed. "I _missed_ this. Damn."

"Tal," she said in a reprimanding tone. She sat up, fidgeting as she tried not to wake Eliana. "Give that here."

Tal pulled the wine back to his chest, as protective of the alcohol as she was of her baby. "Not unless you promise you're going to help me drink it." He wrinkled his nose then, rethinking his suggestion. "Actually, maybe I'll just go get you your own bottle. How bout it?"

"No," Rosa said, low under her breath. She extended an arm out to him, motioning. "Give it here. You know you have trouble stopping."

Tal scoffed. "You're worse than my own _mamae,_ you know that?" He brought the bottle sloshing to his lips again before going on. "Not even my _mamae_ would ride my ass this hard about a little drink."

Rosa scowled. "Would you like to find out? I can take you to your mother in the dreaming and you can see just how acceptable she finds your constant drunkenness."

"I'm not drunk!" Tal snarled. "Not _constantly._ Not even close." He gestured angrily around them at the cart, the camp. "Since that bastard used blighting blood magic on me at Val Royeaux—"

"Keep your voice down," Rosa hissed, quickly looking around to see if any of the humans had overheard. Fortunately no one was within earshot. The human soldiers knew to leave the cart alone during the evenings like this because Rosa and Eliana were napping. None of them wanted to hear a cranky baby. Only Tal and Solas usually ventured close to check on her and wake her for dinner.

"It's true," Tal grumbled. "Fucker used some kind of banned magic on me." He shot her a wounded look. "Why do you keep that asshole's secrets, _asamalin?_ After what he did to you and Eliana."

As she always did, Rosa rolled her eyes and lied. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Tal scoffed again. He took a long swig of the wine bottle and then hopped out of the cart. He swayed slightly upon landing, jostling the cart as he grabbed it for stability. Sniffing, he stared off at the nearest campfire, where Cassandra and Varric were chatting with some scouts. "You still love the son of a bitch?"

"No," she said and something inside squirmed with panic, unsure if that was the truth or a lie. "But it doesn't matter what I want. That comes second to what's best for my family. That's you and Elia."

One corner of Tal's lip twitched. He didn't meet her eye, but grunted as if he found her comment interesting. After a silence that was lengthy enough to be uncomfortable, Tal tossed his head back and finished the last gulp of his wine. He held the empty bottle out in front of himself and sniffed again. "Families shouldn't keep secrets," he said, but it almost seemed more as though he spoke for himself than to her. Still, the words made Rosa bristle.

"I'm not lying."

Tal shrugged, disengaging. He stalked off to the fire to join Cassandra and Varric some distance away. Each step was a smidgen too slow and swayed. He was fast heading toward drunkenness. And after that would come shitfaced. And then blackout.

Rosa clenched her jaw and swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. Watching Eliana sleep, she almost missed when Solas appeared alongside the cart. The Elvhen man had footsteps as light as a cat, confident and nimble and silent. He smiled slightly at her and nodded his head as he lifted a bundle of folded cloth. "This is everything," he told her.

"Thank you," she said, real gratitude flushing her as she took the nappies. They were warm like rocks under morning sunshine. Somehow Solas always managed to dry them to perfection.

"Is she still sleeping?" he asked, the small smile never leaving his lips.

Rosa nodded. "Yes. I would be too if Tal hadn't woken me up parading his renewed ability to get shitfaced."

Now Solas' expression faltered for an instant. He recovered then, brows beetling slightly. "How unfortunate." Their eyes met and the question was there, silent but undeniable. Did she want him to repeat the same trick? Solas had never admitted to her he used a strange magic on her brother, but Rosa was no fool. Nothing could have stopped Tal from indulging when he wasn't under constant guard except a powerful spell.

"I…" She licked her lips, unsure of what she wanted to say. "I don't know how to help him."

"May I be of service?" Solas asked quietly, leaning closer in conspiracy. This was tacit admission of the highest order. She should resent him for it on her brother's behalf. But…

"Perhaps later." She hesitated. "Do you know of any tricks that could work longer? Better?"

Solas' mouth quirked downward. In a quiet voice he said, "We must remove Rogathe."

Rosa lifted both brows in surprise. "You think the spirit is causing this?"

"In part," Solas said, dipping his head. "His relapse now all but confirms my suspicion." His expression warped, caught between something like guilt and nervousness. "The spirit within the Herald is at odds with him. While it is bound at present, it still influences him. Much like when a painter mixes two colors on the canvas—green and yellow become a new color: blue. Rogathe and Tal together create an altered personality and that has regrettable consequences." His features softened with memory as he went on. "The same was true for you when the spirit resided within you. As I recall, you were brash and very quick to anger. But Bravery is far more in tune with your spirit."

"Are you calling Tal a coward?" Rosa asked dryly.

"No," Solas replied quickly. "I am suggesting the spirit is simply more like you than it is like Tal." Rosa was silent, considering his point long enough that Solas changed the topic, asking, "It is regrettable that Eliana has displayed magic already, particularly around the Seeker."

Rosa blinked a moment and then nodded. Casting a glance toward the fire where Cassanda was presently shaking a finger at Varric threateningly, scolding him about something as usual, Rosa sighed. "I hope Varric's right and the Circles are no more after this. I know Cassandra agreed Elia is Dalish and doesn't belong in a Circle, but…"

"You worry for her, as any mother would," Solas murmured, his blue eyes tender. "I am concerned as well." He smiled, self-deprecatingly. "Sadly, I have no expertise in child development. I'm sorry, but I don't know whether her early display is unusual. Is there a chance the Seeker will realize she is…not an ordinary mage?"

Rosa idly and lovingly stroked her sleeping daughter's head as she answered Solas. "I don't think the Seeker or anyone else around here will jump to wondering if she's a Dreamer. They didn't suspect us in the Circle so I think Elia is safe. Dreamers are so rare I doubt it will enter their minds."

"Is the display this early unusual?" Solas repeated.

The slight note of urgency underlying the question made Rosa lift her eyes to meet Solas' gaze. She smirked after a moment. "You were really such a bachelor that you don't know?"

His cheeks went pink and he clenched his jaw, turning his head away. "I'm afraid so. Yes. I tutored children for many years, but they were all much older than Elia."

Rosa had already gathered this based on some of his interactions with her in Haven. It wasn't just magical talent in babies he didn't know about, it was everything from weaning to nappy changing to how much and how long they should sleep. It reconfirmed what she'd learned and inferred about him being a bachelor and a loner for most of his life and with no siblings or close relatives growing up to observe, either. Yet, when it was _his_ child he had plenty of interest.

She shrugged, trying to put him at ease again. "My mother said I showed magic as a baby, too. Her clan was thrilled over it because they needed another mage. Lavellan's Keeper was overjoyed, too. Deshanna says the younger they show the magic the stronger they will be and the better they can protect and serve the clan."

Oddly, this comment made Solas frown. Before she could stop herself, Rosa asked, "What?"

"Your Keeper already assesses her like livestock," he growled. "I have seen what the Dalish do with mages they have no need of. Lavellan clan will try to trade her away like chattel."

Rosa bristled. "If you think I'd let that happen you're a fool." Her hand lay protectively over her sleeping baby's back, feeling her little chest rise and fall.

"And if you have died?" Solas challenged her, eyes narrowing critically. "If you cannot protect her?" He shook his head.

Rosa recoiled and then frowned. "So that is what this is really about, isn't it?" she grumbled. "You're here to argue with me about your role in her life again, aren't you?"

Frustration and pride and pain all flashed through his features. "I am her father, Rosa," he reminded her, blankly. "How many times must I tell you I am not relinquishing that responsibility? There is nothing I need argue on the matter. It is not up for debate."

That part of her that still found him attractive wriggled with raw want, fueled by that damned maternal pragmatism that saw a father for Eliana in Solas and leapt at it wholeheartedly. But the stubborn, wounded part of her held back. He'd hurt her when he abandoned her. He deserved to be put in his place, to be denied and abandoned now in turn. Where was Solas while she vomited into the snow with morning sickness? Where was Solas when her back ached with the baby's weight? Where was Solas when the labor pains gripped her, so fierce she felt she must be dying? Where was Solas as she'd screamed and cried and sweated and bled bringing this child of his to life? He forfeited his rights to Eliana when he broke his promise to return for Rosa or at least touch her dreams.

Besides, pushing him away now would keep her from making the dangerous mistake of restarting her relationship with him.

"Eliana is _my_ daughter," Rosa snapped, mocking his earlier phrasing. "How many times must I tell you that? You exist in her life only as long as _I_ want you there."

Alarm and anger twisted his features. "Rosa, you do not understand—"

Feeling Eliana waking under her hand, Rosa motioned at Solas to silence him. She scooped up Eliana and cuddled her close, kissing the baby's cheeks. "Sweetling, did you have good dreams?"

Eliana cooed and lifted chubby hands to touch her face. Her little lips spread in a toothless smile, sleepy and innocent to her parent's arguing. Solas watched, silent over her shoulder. Then he spoke in a slightly strangled voice, "May I learn to care for her? Hold her?"

Rosa didn't look back at him as she nuzzled Eliana. Stubbornness won as she pretended not to hear him. Eventually she heard Solas' feet stomp away, his tread heavier than usual with anger. Part of her twisted with worry that she would truly manage to push him away and regret it, but she also feared…well, she wasn't certain what. Sometimes, underlying Solas' stares, Rosa sensed something…oddly desperate. As though he would abscond with Eliana if he ever got a good grip on her. As though he had designs on the baby. He, or maybe his mistress—Mythal. Hadn't her father told her Mythal liked to "collect" babies as collateral? She was as much a mother as a politician and no stranger to taking hostages.

The thought sent a shudder down Rosa's spine even as she dismissed it. That was a silly, paranoid dream of her subconscious. It was her own fear of closeness with Solas, of being hurt again, spinning bizarre reasons why she needed to keep him at bay. That was all.

She stroked Eliana's hair and hummed tunelessly for her baby, promising her wordlessly that she would always be there to care for her. And she'd never rush into trusting Solas with her daughter out of wanting a partner to help her.

* * *

Tal hung his head over the side of the supply cart and dry-heaved. His throat hurt. His eyes ached. His head throbbed. Groaning, he flopped back down over the wooden crates, squished between two large barrels of salt Josephine insisted they bring to trade to…well, he forgot who. Someone important. To impress them and forge alliances. Or something. His head hurt too much to try and remember.

Rosa sat on the other side of the cart, shaded by a bit of canvas stretched out over more barrels and crates around her. Cassandra and the soldiers arranged the spot for her so she could rest her legs whenever she tired of walking. Or needed to nurse Elia or change her or nap with her. Now her disapproving stare drilled into him, burning him like a poker from a fire.

Covering his eyes with one hand, he gritted his teeth. "Why do I keep puking?" he whined. Even to his own ears it sounded like whining.

"Because you're hung-over," Rosa told him flatly. Eliana coed and blew spit bubbles. Rosa had joined him in the supply cart to change the baby's diaper a few minutes ago and now rested with her daughter to glower at him. Tal wished she'd just leave.

"No," he grumbled. "There's nothing left in my stomach to come up." Finishing with a groan, he tried to roll over to clasp his stomach. The cart was so uncomfortable, loaded with supplies as it was. He wished Rosa would just leave so he could bed down in her little spot again.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself, _da'isamalin?"_ she asked, her voice strained. "Do you even remember last night?"

He remembered some of it. Not all. He downed the first wine bottle so fast it might as well have been nothing but a mouthful of liquor. The next one he savored, rejoicing that the wine once more tasted the way it should instead of the foul shit-piss mixture Revas' magic made it into. He stayed as far from the other elven man as he could that night, fearing Revas would attack him again, transform his sense of taste again. He drank nonstop. Through dinner, through conversation after it, and then after retiring to his tent. Or, at least that was his plan. He didn't remember going to bed, but he woke up in the tent beside Rosa so he must have enacted his plan.

And since waking he'd been miserable. How had he forgotten about this part of it? Still, it was worth it for that first sweet taste of wine dancing over his tongue. For the bite of the alcohol in his throat. For the warmth that spread through his loins. For the way it numbed everything and made him stop worrying about the damned mark in his hand, or trying to survive this Inquisition and Herald business, or remembering his clan and his Keeper. How he'd failed them and himself and everyone around him. How he was _still_ doing that, every moment of every day.

"Yeah," he lied to Rosa. "I remember just fine."

A beat of silence drew out and then Rosa sighed, heavy with disappointment. "You don't remember. So let me tell you a few highlights." She cleared her throat, her voice dry and sarcastic. "Varric was telling one of his stories about the Champion until you cut in and started trying to regale our companions with a story of your own that _no one_ wanted to hear."

Tal groaned again but tried for levity. "You sure? I want to hear it."

Rosa snorted, not in amusement but with disgust. In a lower voice she reprimanded him, "You started rambling about how you had sloppy sex with some woman who rescued you after you fell out of a tree and broke your collarbone. And that happened right _after_ you watched a band of roving Dalish kill a bunch of Templars."

Tal snickered, then grimaced as he tasted vomit from a far corner of his mouth. "I bet that went over great with Cassandra."

"Oh yes," Rosa grumbled. He didn't look at her but he could feel her glare. "Especially when, after she told you we'd all heard enough, you tried to seduce her."

Now Tal winced. "I did?"

"You spoke elven so only Revas and me understood, but I think the air humping motions you made and the kisses you blew at her broke the language barrier." She heaved another longsuffering sigh. "But that wasn't my favorite part," Rosa went on angrily. "No, my favorite part was when you started accusing Revas of blood magic."

Alarm snapped Tal's muscles taut, making his temples throb. He grimaced with the pain but pushed it aside. Grunting, he eased himself up on one elbow and squinted through the midmorning sunshine at his sister's shaded spot in the cart. She glowered out at him, seething. His face was hot with shame. For as much as he'd grown to resent and distrust Revas lately he didn't want to get the man killed.

"Did I…" He broke off, wincing. "Did I speak in common when I did that?"

"Yes," Rosa snarled. "And well within earshot of Cassandra."

"Shit," Tal cursed. "That's not good."

"No," she agreed, still snarling. "It's not. And now Cassandra has disarmed Revas. It was only through some minor miracle that I convinced her not to cuff him and lock him away in the wagon." She jerked her chin to indicate the wagon trailing further down the line of the Inquisition caravan.

"I'm sorry," Tal mumbled, slumping as exhaustion and nausea swelled in his head. "I'll talk to her…as soon as I can walk."

"Yes," Rosa bit out. "See that you do." Switching to elven, which was slow to process through his thick mind, she added, _"You know Revas is not a blood mage beyond a handful of tiny spells. He's a Dreamer. Blood magic inhibits us."_

Tal didn't answer. His gloomy, miserable thoughts drifted as he tried not to feel queasy enough again to retch. He'd fantasized about having Revas arrested in Val Royeaux, as punishment for the spell or whatever it was the other elf used on him to keep him from drinking. Revas' move was a cheap trick, a low blow. Tal's response, however, was no better. It seemed once he was fully inebriated all the worst parts of himself came out for all to see. How much more might he have said? Would he have bragged to Cassandra and Varric and Revas about his heritage next? That was the greatest secret, aside from the siblings' possession by Rogathe both past and present.

He had to stop drinking. He knew it as clearly as he knew the sun would continue rising and eventually set in the west. Yet, he also knew he was weak. When night fell he'd long for drink again, consequences be damned. It numbed the pain and fear inside that churned in him, always. It made him forget about the Inquisition, his mark, his clan, and Nola. It made him forget that he was a constant failure and always had been—a reject among his birth clan, a disappointment in clan Manaria, and an embarrassing disgrace as the Inquisition's Herald.

It would have been so much better if he'd died in the Conclave explosion and the mark had gone to one of the other mercenaries he worked with. Maybe one of the Tal-Vashoth? Or the dwarves? Or Mahanon? Any of them would be better leaders. Any of them would be able to stop themselves from reaching for the wine bottle.

And then, suddenly, from further up in the caravan, Tal heard a harsh whinny from a startled horse. Wretched as he was, Tal didn't think anything of it until a war cry followed. Male voices shouted, guttural and thick, from either side of the road. Inquisition soldiers yelled in alarm.

Wincing, Tal tried to lift his head, blinking blearily. "What the fuck…?"

* * *

Rosa cursed and Eliana, sensing her mother's distress, whimpered. Disengaging from Eliana's needy grip, Rosa scrambled out of the canvas cover and reached for Tal. She grunted, yanking him toward the canvas as the cart jerked, jostled by the horse towing it as the mare startled, snorting and stamping. Barrels and crates shifted slightly, making Rosa more frantic and hurried as she made Tal take her daughter. "Hide here and protect her," she ordered sternly.

Hopping over the side, Rosa tossed a barrier over the cart and then herself. Her stave was tucked at the end of the cart. She snatched it up just in time to hear the massive thumping steps of an enormous man, seven feet tall or more, racing toward her. He wore furs, ragged and stained with mud and ocher colors. His skin was dusky from a life under the sun. Avvar?

Letting out a shout, Rosa flung Fade stone at him. The man had been hefting up his warhammer, ready to club her with it, but the Fade stone met his unprotected belly first. With a cry he flew backward at the force of it, falling into the ruts and mud of the road.

Up the road Rosa saw Cassandra charge at a small cluster of these wildling warriors. "For the Maker!" The Seeker collided with them, fearless and beautiful, her sword shining in the sunlight. Rosa's heart squeezed tight, longing to join the Seeker and back her up with a barrier, but she was too far away. She didn't dare leave this cart. The one thing she knew about bandit raids on the road was that they were likely after the supplies. She had to protect her brother and her daughter.

An arrow whizzed by, making Rosa's barrier crackle. She whipped to face a new enemy and saw an archer, similarly garbed as the first warrior. Spinning her stave, Rosa used chain lightning, catching the archer and another warrior beside him rushing out of the trees for the caravan. The runner fell, squelching, into the mud. The archer quivered involuntarily and dropped his bow. Gritting her teeth, Rosa flung fireballs at both downed men and turned away as they screamed with fright and pain.

Tal stared out at her from the canvas, mouth agape. He held Eliana pressed to his chest and the baby squirmed, pawing at his clothes, probably looking for the sling or a breast. Sometimes nursing was comfort as much as it was nourishment. Eliana had good instincts to be frightened, even if she didn't yet have the experience to know she'd never find a breast on her uncle. Maternal pride made Rosa flush warm, blood pumping.

Refreshing the barrier over the cart and herself, Rosa saw two more fighters running for her. She lobbed Fade stone at one and then waited for the other to come closer before she unleashed a powerful mindblast. The blow flung him back with a cry. He was slow to rise again, stunned by the spirit magic barrage. Blood streamed from his nose and the corners of his eyes. Rosa had made him bleed internally. He was already dead; he just didn't know it.

She might have overdone it a little with that mindblast, though. She shook her head, fighting back the brief dizzy spell. Her core refilled with mana—just in time for her to fling more fireballs at some warriors further down the caravan line who were cutting their way through Inquisition soldiers.

Another arrow flew past her. This one, unlike the last, was aflame. It struck the cart's barrier and fell harmlessly aside. Rosa smashed the archer with a veilstrike, then flung a fireball to finish him off.

She pivoted on one ankle to refresh the barrier on the cart and then started the gesture to renew her own—only to realize two invisible rogues had reached her. One yelped, giving himself away when she refreshed the barrier and it repelled him. The other she spotted by the way tracks formed in the mud little more than a meter from her.

"Die!" she shouted and used chain lightning. It arced, crackling as it leapt between the two rogues, knocking them from stealth. Now she saw two rogues with daggers out and wetted with blood, both dressed in nothing but fur hide pants and painted with war colors. They snarled at her, flashing white teeth as the shock left them.

The one nearest the cart recovered first and slashed at the barrier, trying to break it. Tal snarled from under the canvas, but his expression was ripe with pain. Sweat lined his brow, easy to see even in the shadow of the canvas. He scooted against the barrels near him, gripping the baby tighter. Eliana started to cry.

The sound of it was like a knife to Rosa's heart made of cold fear.

Using her staff as a fighting pike, Rosa slammed it against the rogue nearest her, knocking him aside. With him out of the way she spun the stave, using winter's grasp on the rogue near the cart. Frost formed over his skin, crackling, slowing his movement. But it wasn't enough as he twisted at the waist and managed to fling a dagger at her.

Gasping, Rosa dodged left, rolling through the mud, heedless of her surcoat. The blade missed her, landing harmlessly in the wet earth, but the other rogue she'd batted aside had recovered and moved to attack her.

Anticipating his slice at her throat, Rosa danced away, slapping him with her stave once more—but the movement cost her precious time. She'd been about to recast her barrier to turn away the rogue's knife, but his attack thwarted her plan, leaving her on the defensive. Now she used that mana for another mindblast, reaching deep and unleashing it with a slick, echoing boom of green spirit magic.

The rogue attacking her fell away, winded and stunned—probably bleeding internally, too. The other rogue, by the cart, had shaken off her frost spell. He was wounded and weakened from her attacks, but still focused on the cart. The barrier had failed. The man hopped in and Tal cursed at him, kicking even as he curled tighter, trying to protect Eliana. The rogue drew another knife that caught the sun, glinting.

"No!" Rosa screamed as she ran for the cart. Ignoring her own safety again she made the gesture and cast a barrier over Tal and Eliana. When the rogue stabbed it turned away his hand and he cried out with surprise.

Grabbing the knife the rogue had thrown earlier from the dirt, Rosa vaulted into the cart after the rogue and stabbed it into his unarmored neck. The man made a wet gasp, choking as blood spurted. Rosa hauled him backward, pushing him out of the cart.

As his body fell away, still fountaining blood, something hit Rosa's bicep. _Hard._ She gasped, thrown to the right. The momentum took her over the side. Pain streaked through her arm, but it was nothing compared to the fear still pounding through her at Tal's distressed call and Eliana's wailing cry.

She landed hard in the mud and dirt, winded and stunned. Her staff clattered out of her hands, rolling a few feet away. Her left arm _really hurt_ and, dimly, she realized there was an arrow sticking out of it. Stupefied for a moment, she didn't immediately lunge for her staff—until she saw boots made of animal hide charging at her. Another warrior, lifting a club made of animal bone, long since stained to be an ugly brown.

With her heart hammering, Rosa scrabbled over the ground, trying to reach her stave, only to realize she wouldn't make it in time. The warrior swung his blade in an arc and she realized she had no barrier—and worse, the cart had no barrier. She stretched her wounded arm for the stave while the other made the motion to cast the barrier.

Too late.

Everything went white and she knew no more.

* * *

Unarmed when the attack came, Solas was still deadly. Winter school came easily to him so he summoned a blizzard at the front of the caravan where he'd been riding as Cassandra's prisoner in all but name. The sudden freezing cold slowed or paralyzed many of the first warriors attacking the caravan. Cassandra cut easily through them and then charged out to bring the fight to the wild men still up by the trees.

Varric dismounted and used powder to go invisible. Only his crossbow bolts revealed his location as he fired away. His horse, spooked by his invisibility and the clacking of Bianca, whinnied and stamped. It ran for the trees.

Solas' gelding tossed its head, ready to do the same. Digging in his heels, Solas urged the beast on, directing it down the line of the caravan. His staff was tucked away in the wagon, locked up. He didn't need it, but it would help. And the last thing he needed was for Cassandra to become even _more_ suspicious of his powers and talents after Tal's false accusations last night. She was sure to recall that he'd summoned a blizzard without the focus of a staff already. Most mages couldn't accomplish something as spectacular as that without _some_ focus.

The gelding was fast and eager as it charged down the line of soldiers and carts. The locked wagon was near the end of the line, as was the cart Rose rode in. Rosa was a good fighter, but there were a _lot_ of bandits and they were clearly after supplies and horses. Solas ran down more than one warrior who sprang for his horse, trying to catch him. A focused veilstrike sent them flying and didn't slow or spook the horse.

Rosa's cart came into view far too slowly, despite how fast his gelding galloped for it. Fear clutched at his throat with cold hands as he saw an arrow streak out from the tree line and hit Rosa's left shoulder. _No, no, no!_

As he saw Rosa topple over the right side of the cart, Solas lobbed Fade stone up at the archer who'd shot her. It was a smaller stone without his staff to focus it, but millennia of experience let him shape it precisely into a sharp stone that, when it impacted, killed the archer on contact.

He jerked on the reins, slowing the gelding and circling round the cart. He saw Tal clutching Eliana to his chest, spattered with blood. Horror made him feel nauseous for an instant before Tal made eye contact with him and shouted, "Revas! Help Rosa!"

Unthinkingly, Solas cast a barrier over the cart as he slid off the gelding. A warrior was to the right of the cart where Rosa had fallen, swinging his bone club. Solas flung an icicle at the giant, piercing him straight through the heart. The enormous warrior fell backward and didn't rise again.

Rounding the cart, heart pounding in his throat, Solas felt dread crush his chest. Rosa lay on her right side, motionless. Blood flowed steadily from an impact wound on the left side of her head. "No," he breathed, freezing for an instant before he sprang for her, healing magic glowing gold in his palms.

But before he could lay his hands on her another warrior raced for him, roaring. Baring his teeth in rage, Solas flung a fireball at the man, more powerful than it needed to be. The man stumbled as the fire consumed him, screaming for an instant before he fell over, dead but still burning. Another warrior behind the first skidded to a stop, kicking up mud, his face ghostly white. He turned and fled rather than engage.

Tossing barriers over himself, the cart, and Rosa, Solas laid his palms onto her. The healing magic sank in and he shuddered with relief to feel she still had life within her—but for how long? Head wounds were grievous even in Elvhenan. Few things killed so brutally and were difficult to treat in flesh as well as spirit. The brain could swell, the skull trapping it within. It could bleed and rob a sharp mind of its simplest functions or memories. Or the soul might retreat deep inside, trapped and unable to surface while the body lived on as nothing more than inanimate flesh.

The swift application of strong healing magic sealed the bleeding and might ease swelling, but only time would tell.

Fortunately it seemed they would have that time. The bandits were retreating, repulsed by the Inquisition forces. The warrior who'd run from Solas was the last he saw, beyond the shouts from a few spots further down the caravan. Soon the Inquisition was alone on the road, tending to its fallen.

As tenderly as he could, Solas pulled the arrow shaft from Rosa's arm and healed the wound it left behind. There was a great deal of blood on her, but much of it did not appear to be her own. He checked for other wounds, but only her head remained. He could not close the crack in her skull yet for fear of brain swelling. Blood caked on half of her face and gummed up her hair. It was hard for him to look at and he was eager to find a damp cloth to wipe it away.

Tal joined him, weak-legged and still holding a squalling Eliana. Tears streaked down his face, running through grime and dried blood. Eliana was mostly clean, sheltered by her uncle's body. Solas reached for the infant without saying a word to Tal, laying a hand on her to check with spirit magic if she was wounded. The mana returned to him, telling him his daughter had survived physically unscathed. But she was clearly not happy.

"Thank you," Tal said, his voice dry and croaking. "If you hadn't come when you did…"

Solas didn't bother acknowledging the words. His gaze raked over Tal, seeing that he was still clearly wobbly, weak from a hangover. "Perhaps you should give her to me."

Tal winced and, after a moment of heavy silence, he nodded. He stepped closer and extended his arms out, proffering Eliana. Solas hesitated a moment and then took his daughter. Her crying slowed as she lifted her head and looked to him, less afraid than curious. But she made a face as she realized he wasn't Rosa and her crying resumed. Solas cradled her, stroking her back with one hand, trying to soothe her.

"Will Rosa make it?" Tal asked in a tiny voice.

"That remains unclear," Solas replied stiffly, not looking at the younger elf.

"What?" Tal asked, recoiling from that response. "Are you serious?"

"Brain injuries are difficult to treat or predict," Solas said matter-of-factly. He made a humming noise in his throat, trying to soothe Eliana. The baby's little breaths and her wet mouth and face nuzzled at his neck and ear and shoulder. Her grubby hands pawed at his clothes. "Shhh, _da'len,"_ he cooed.

"She'll make it," Tal said, but his voice was weak with fear and emotion. "She _has_ to…"

Solas ignored the younger man, focusing instead on calming his daughter. Eliana came around gradually, blinking as her crying softened to whimpering. Solas tried smiling at her, wiping a thumb across her cheeks gently to clean them of grit and tears. Her little brow furrowed with what seemed to be irritation and she jerked her head away in protest. "Naaaaa," she complained.

"This is my fault," Tal said then and suddenly let out a rasping sob. "If I wasn't such a _fucking loser drunk_ I'd have been able to fight with her. I'd have been able to back her up…" He covered his face with both hands, sobbing into them.

Something like guilt twined its fingers over Solas' heart, too. When he'd insisted Rosa allow him to act as Eliana's father in case she couldn't protect their child or died he hadn't wanted to drive the point home _this_ way. What if she didn't live? The mere thought made it hard for him to think or breathe. It would simplify matters if Eliana became _his_ alone, but he had no idea how to truly care for her and losing a mother was a fate he'd wish on no child, his own least of all.

Particularly because he still cared about Rosa, deeply so. If he were being honest with himself, he'd have to admit he _loved her._ What if he'd lost her so soon?

* * *

**Next Chapter**

"If she dies," Tal said then, words wavering with emotion, "I'm going to go with her."

"Stoic," Varric protested immediately, an awkward smile on his lips that was both anxiety and grief and not humorous at all. "That's grief talking. Violet wouldn't want that."

"He's right," Cassandra said. "Do not lose hope." Her chin wrinkled with emotion. "I…I lost my brother when I was young. We were close, as you and your sister are. I was very bitter about his death for many years." She let out a sad chuckle. "Sometimes I still am. I will never stop missing him, but I also knew he would never want me to spend the rest of my life miserable. More than that, Herald, this world needs you."


End file.
